


Into The Unknown

by sinead_smith (smac89)



Series: The Ragnarok Cycle [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Amnesia, F/M, Gen, Original Character Death(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:01:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25446553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smac89/pseuds/sinead_smith
Summary: Being an ambassador's wife isn't easy. Being an ambassador's wife and a Norn is even harder. Darcy tries to balance her birthright, her job, and motherhood and fails miserably. A mediation that should have been simple turns into tragedy, and Darcy's family will never be the same.
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Loki, Jane Foster/Thor
Series: The Ragnarok Cycle [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/390355
Comments: 68
Kudos: 75





	1. Dear Future Self

**Author's Note:**

> The first few chapters of this story will look familiar. I am restructuring the series to be more streamlined for publishing when I finally get around to it. Please be patient with me at this time. Thank you.

Darius Miller was too embarrassed to say he had no idea what was going on. He’d been pulled into his boss’ office that morning and had been handed an envelope stuffed full of NDA’s and employment contracts. He had been told a limo would pick him up at precisely 12:45 to take him to the interview. The only problem was that he had no idea what job he was interviewing for.

He was currently the junior administrative assistant to the head of Public Relations for Stark Industries, which sounded like a cush job but basically he was a coffee-fetcher and memo-deliverer. He’d taken the job because even in New York City it was hard for people like him to find jobs that offered complete health benefits and SI had some of the best.

So this mysterious job offer had definitely come as a surprise. The salary itself was staggering, not to mention a list of benefits a mile long up to and including all-expense-included overseas travel. That sounded exciting. But the sheer number of NDA’s, not to mention the life insurance and beneficiary forms, were slightly concerning. Behind the beneficiary form was a work-related long-term disability disclosure. What exactly was this job for?

The limo arrived at  _ exactly _ 12:45 but Darius had already been waiting for twenty minutes, confused, nervous, and a little scared, to be perfectly honest. He was  _ pretty _ sure it was legitimate; after all, it had been given to him by the PR manager for Stark Industries. Most likely it had to do with one of SI’s satellite companies. Maybe a research and development firm? He had no idea.

The limo driver didn’t speak other than to ask for Darius’ ID. He also seemed to have been warned beforehand because he didn’t comment on the fact that Darius didn’t match the information on the ID anymore, as he was in the process of getting an updated one, and hadn’t yet gotten the necessary medical documentation.

It was only a fifteen minute drive from Stark Tower to their destination, and when they arrived, Darius still had no idea what he was getting into. The building was older, built in neo-gothic style with gargoyles on the corners, surrounded by a ten-foot wrought iron fence that hummed ominously. The limo passed through the gate without stopping and pulled into the back courtyard where a tall, dark-haired woman waited.

The woman was wearing a dark red, long sleeved shirt of some smooth, thick material, leather pants with padded thighs, and heavy boots that reached her knees. She had actual  _ vambraces _ on her forearms. Like,  _ real _ armor. In one hand she held a flat, gold-colored baton.

Darius got out of the limo and surreptitiously wiped his palms on his thighs before walking over to the woman. “Uh...hi. I’m Darius Miller? I’m here for an interview?”

“Yes, you are expected,” the woman said in a no-nonsense tone. “Hold out your arms, please.”

When Darius did as requested, the woman waved the baton up and down his arms, legs, and abdomen. When nothing happened, she looked pleased and beckoned him to follow her. “This way,” she said.

Darius had to practically jog to keep up with the woman’s long strides. She brought him into the building, down a long hallway, and into what could easily have passed for a formal living room in the White House. It was pristine, untouched, and decorated all in cream and gold.

“You will wait here,” the woman ordered, and left via another door.

Darius looked around, even more confused than before. The sofas looked like they had never been sat on before, so he was a little afraid to. The windows looked out onto a small garden and beyond that a large square plot of land that looked like it was covered in sand and was currently otherwise empty.

After only a few minutes, the door the woman had left through opened again. Darius jumped and whirled around. A different woman stood in the doorway. She was shorter than Darius, though only by a couple of inches, with dark brown hair pulled up in a deceptively casual-looking chignon. She was wearing a purple silk blouse and white skinny jeans, and a gold necklace that was probably worth more than Darius paid in rent for six months. She looked young,  _ maybe _ twenty-five, but she held herself with the sort of regalness Darius had always envied.

“Hi,” she said with a friendly smile. “Quick question. Are you allergic to dogs?”

“No?” Darius said, not meaning it to sound like a question.

“Oh. Good. Don’t move,” the woman replied, and stepped out of the doorway. Behind her waited the biggest wolf Darius had ever seen. Actually, he was pretty sure it was a direwolf, not some measly timber wolf. It probably weighed as much as he did and if it stood on its hind legs it would easily be seven feet tall.

The woman walked into the room and the wolf followed her, staying at her side like a well-trained pet. Darius couldn’t stop staring at it. Were people even  _ allowed _ to have wolves as a pet? Was that a good idea? He was pretty sure that trying to domesticate an apex predator never ended well.

“This is Fenris,” the woman said, patting the beast on its shoulder. “He lives here at the embassy and he goes pretty much wherever he wants to. Part of our standard interview process is having him meet with and approve candidates. Hold out your hand.”

“Will I get it back?” Darius said without thinking, and then winced. But the woman laughed and patted the wolf’s shoulder again.

“Don’t worry. He doesn’t bite unless you try to attack his family. Just don’t move and don’t try to pet him.”

Darius hesitantly held out one hand, ready to snatch it back if he saw even the faintest gleam of teeth.

The wolf-beast took a couple steps away from the woman, sniffed at Darius’ outstretched fingers, and then returned to the woman’s side, giving her a remarkably intelligent look from its striking green eyes.

The woman smiled. “You have been deemed non-threatening. We may proceed with the interview.”

“Oh. That’s nice,” Darius said faintly. This was by far the strangest interview he had ever had, and that included the one for stage manager of that one heavy metal band.

“Sorry, I’ve forgotten to introduce myself,” the woman said, holding out her hand. “I am Lady Sigyn, of the Sisterhood of the Norns.”

Darius stared at her, ignoring her outstretched hand. Was this real? Was this actual real life? Was he really about to interview for a job with the  _ wife of the alien ambassador _ ? Suddenly the amount of NDAs in the employment packet made sense.

“I think I’m going to pass out,” Darius said, and cringed internally. Oh, god. He’d probably just killed any chance that he had.

The woman frowned, and Darius’ heart sank even further. “Were you not told who you’d be interviewing with?” she asked in a hard voice.

Darius couldn’t bring himself to speak. He just shook his head. The woman pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Fen, remind me to send Tony a  _ very _ nasty email about his sick sense of humor,” Lady Sigyn said with a sigh.

The wolf snorted, almost as if he had understood what she had said.

Lady Sigyn lowered her hand. “I am so sorry, Mr Miller. I was under the impression you had been fully briefed. You see, Tony Stark and my husband have a rather… tumultuous relationship, and this is probably his idea of a joke. I don’t know. Sometimes you can never tell with Tony. Please have a seat and take a moment if you have to.”

Darius glanced down at the sofa behind him. There wasn’t even any dog hair on it. He sat gingerly on the very edge and stared at his hands for several minutes while he got his roiling stomach under control.

“We were looking for a personal assistant for my husband,” Lady Sigyn said, sitting on the couch opposite Darius. The wolf lay on the floor at her feet. “We were a little concerned about attracting the crazies, so we asked Tony for recommendations from his company, since we know what kind of background checks he requires.”

“Oh,” Darius said. He looked up at Lady Sigyn. “Mr Stark recommended me?”

“Well, SI’s HR recommended you,” Lady Sigyn admitted. “You had the exact education, experience, and work ethic we were looking for.”

Darius blinked a couple of times. “Really?” He found that hard to believe.

Lady Sigyn smiled at him. “Yup,” she said. “Not to mention a  _ very _ impressive amount of volunteer hours with non-profit organizations like the Human Rights Campaign and NCTE.”

Darius really  _ really _ hoped he wasn’t blushing. “I see,” he mumbled.

“Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?” Lady Sigyn asked.

“No, of course not,” Darius said quickly.

“How do you feel about working around children?”

Darius blinked. Before he could reply, Lady Sigyn continued, “We have nine kids between the two of us and they’re a big part of our life. We take them almost everywhere we can. We do have a nanny, so you won’t be expected to work  _ with  _ them, but you will definitely be around them.”

“I don’t have a problem working around children,” Darius said firmly.

Lady Sigyn nodded. “Excellent. Now, I understand you worked in PR for Stark Industries?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Darius said, nodding.

“Okay. Because you are going to have to work with our PR group a little.” Lady Sigyn rolled her eyes. “My husband is breathtakingly intelligent in most things but he really doesn’t have a clue when it comes to humans or any kind of earth culture, which is why we need a human for his personal assistant. I do what I can but you’re going to need to explain earth customs to him when I’m not around.”

“I am… very familiar with earth customs,” Darius said. Her casualness was helping him relax, and it really hadn’t sunk in yet that he was being considered for a position at the very first interplanetary embassy.

“Good to hear,” Sigyn said, beaming at him. “Now, how do you feel about working in a high-stress environment? Things can get pretty crazy around here. It’s very fast-paced. And your boss is the  _ biggest _ drama queen in the Nine Realms. He’s also extremely stubborn and he can make things appear and disappear from thin air. Also he can and will teleport behind people just to scare them.”

“I think high-stress is slightly under exaggerating that a little bit,” Darius said delicately.

Lady Sigyn shrugged. “Eh. Probably. But the pay is fantastic and you’ll get five weeks of vacation a year.”

Darius nodded. “That sounds like a fair trade-off.”

“Well, we wanted the position to be attractive,” Lady Sigyn said with another shrug. “Speaking of which, you will be required to live on-site here at the embassy, which will be rent-free. Is that something you can handle?”

Rent-free in New York City? “Yes, that sounds fine,” Darius said quickly.

“Alright.” Lady Sigyn slapped her hands together and rubbed them. “Why don’t we take a tour of the embassy and you can ask me whatever questions you have because I can practically  _ hear _ them buzzing around your head.” She got to her feet and the wolf did too.

Darius looked at the wolf. He wanted to ask if it went wherever she did, but he didn’t know if that was appropriate. She was, after all, a space princess. Wait,  _ was _ she a princess? She was married to a prince, but she called herself  _ Lady _ Sigyn. He wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to ask.

“This way,” Lady Sigyn said cheerfully, beckoning him to follow. “This place is huge. It took me, like, a week to figure out where everything is.”

Darius suddenly realized what had been bothering him about Lady Sigyn. She didn’t  _ sound _ like an alien. She didn’t act like one, either. At the press conference they’d held right after their arrival she had said she had been born on a planet called Nornheim, but if Darius hadn’t known better, he would have assumed she was a human.

“Ask,” Lady Sigyn said as they walked down yet another hallway.

“I beg your pardon?” Darius said, shaking his head to clear his thoughts.

“You are practically  _ screaming _ whatever question is bugging you right now,” Lady Sigyn told him, giving him a sidelong look from dark blue eyes. “Whatever it is, just ask.”

Darius hesitated for a long time, then tentatively asked, “Have you spent time on earth before now?”

Lady Sigyn laughed again. “Oh, yeah,” she said. “I’ve spent  _ quite _ a bit of time on earth. I actually lived here before I met my husband. And after. We lived here for two years before Loki’s father appointed him as ambassador.”

“Oh,” Darius said. That raised a whole slew of other questions. Did anyone know there were aliens living on earth? Where on earth did they live?  _ Why _ were they living on earth?

Lady Sigyn came to a stop in front of a large set of wooden double doors. “This leads to our personal quarters,” she explained. “Mine, my husband’s, and our children, as well as Sif, our captain of the guard, and Brenna, my handmaiden. No other employee of the embassy may enter this part of the building for  _ any _ reason, or you will be immediately terminated. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Darius said, nodding.

“Around the corner is the communal kitchen. It is fully stocked, and all employees are welcome to use it at any time. You can use anything in the refrigerator, pantry, and cabinets unless it has someone’s name on it, and then it’s just common courtesy not to take it. I would advise staying away from the Asgardian food, though,” Lady Sigyn warned. “Some of it is not digestible by humans and they like  _ way _ more spice on their food than most humans. I’m not talking, like, habanero or sriracha. I’m talking like volcano molten lava levels of spicy. And the alcohol. Don’t try it. There isn’t a word in the English language for how hungover you will feel afterwards. Death is preferable.”

Darius trailed a half step behind Lady Sigyn and soaked up every word. He had a list of questions growing by the second but he was honestly too intimidated to ask them. He kept one eye on the wolf-beast which paced along at Lady Sigyn’s other side, completely ignoring Darius altogether, which he was perfectly fine with.

“Here we have the offices,” Lady Sigyn went on, leading him down another corridor. “Almost no one is here, though. Today is the Remembrance of the Victorious Dead on Asgard, so all our Asgardian staff is back home, except for Sif, who you met, and Brenna. And since the Asgardians are off, we gave the humans the day off, too. Seemed only fair.”

“Of course,” Darius said dutifully.

Lady Sigyn stopped walking and turned to face him. “ _ Please _ ask questions. Your head is  _ incredibly  _ noisy and I already have a headache, so I’m kinda sensitive right now.”

Darius blinked at her rapidly. “Are you… uh… psychic?”

Lady Sigyn laughed. “Only slightly. Don’t worry. I can’t read your  _ actual _ thoughts, just your emotions. Some people are naturally easier to read than others. You, my friend, are an open book.”

Darius blushed again. He had no idea what she was able to pick up from him, but it couldn’t be too bad because she was continuing the interview. “I did have a few questions about the health insurance…” he said.

“Oh, yeah, no,” Lady Sigyn said, waving one hand. “That sort of question needs to go to our lawyer when you sign all the paperwork. Any kind of small print, salary negotiation, benefits, anything like that needs to wait for him. I have no idea how any of that works. I did not go to college for that.”

“You went to college?” Darius blurted, surprised.

“Poli Sci at Culver. Almost graduated, too,” Lady Sigyn said brightly.

“What happened?” Darius asked, curious. 

“I almost died,” Lady Sigyn replied, her demeanor darkening slightly. “ _ Any _ way. Living quarters are in the top three floors. Second floor is conference rooms, security office, armory, and server room for ETTA.”

“Etta?” Darius echoed.

“She’s our AI,” Lady Sigyn explained. “Tony Stark designed her for us. Didn’t tell us what ETTA stands for, but apparently it’s hilarious. Moving on. We should head down into the basement. Loki is working in his lab at the moment. He didn’t want to be bothered until you passed the initial tests.”

“I passed?” Darius asked.

“We wouldn’t still be talking if you hadn’t,” Lady Sigyn assured him. “Come on.”

Darius followed her and the wolf-beast to a set of fire doors at the end of the hallway. “We do have elevators, but Loki doesn’t like them, so the only way to his lab is by these stairs and a flight in our private quarters,” Lady Sigyn told him. “ _ Most _ of the time the lab is safe, but if there is a sign on the door, make sure you read it.”

“What kind of lab is it?” Darius asked.

“Whatever strikes his fancy,” Lady Sigyn said with a shrug. “He’s a multi-discipline scientist. Anything from astrophysics to mechanical engineering to chemistry. And also magic.”

“I’m sorry, did you say  _ magic _ ?” Darius asked.

“Uh-huh,” Lady Sigyn replied. “Technically it’s not really  _ magic _ . It’s the ability to manipulate energy and transform it from one form to another.  _ Most _ humans haven’t evolved that power yet, at least, not without outside interference. Not even all Asgardians have it. The only Asgardian sorcerers I know of are Loki, his mother, and his father.”

“Not Thor?” Darius asked as they descended the stairs.

“Yes and no,” Lady Sigyn said, shaking her head. “He has certain, very narrow abilities. Certainly not as varied as Loki or their mother.” She snapped her fingers. “Before you ask, so far only one of the kids is known to have inherited Loki’s magic. Six of the others are adopted and are human, one definitely did not, and the youngest is still an infant, but probably will.”

“I actually wasn’t going to ask that,” Darius said.

Lady Sigyn shrugged. “You were eventually. Ah, here we are.” At the bottom of the stairs was another fire door, which Lady Sigyn pushed through. There was a small foyer on the other side with a decontamination shower and a sterile plastic container full of hazmat suits.

“Don’t worry about those,” Darcy said, waving a hand at the decontamination shower. “OSHA requires those for all labs but Loki rarely has lab accidents. A lot less than  _ Stark _ does.”

“Oh, okay,” Darius said, uncertain.

Lady Sigyn pushed open the heavy doors at the other end of the foyer and stepped into the room. It was not what Darius expected.

The lab was expansive, with several tables and workbenches pushed against the walls. At one end there were racks of shelves full of jars, boxes, and strange metal shapes. There were windows in the walls that let in beams of sunlight, and looked out onto a city that was definitely  _ not _ Manhattan.

In the center of the lab was a large, egg-shaped device that was floating three feet off the ground. It was coated with gold-colored metal and had a panel in the front missing, revealing a complex network of crystals and silver wire.

A pair of black-clad legs stuck out from underneath the device, and there was a tapping sound alternating with a faint ringing like a tiny silver bell. Lady Sigyn leaned over and rapped her knuckles on the shell of the device. “Hey,  _ angan _ . We’ve got company.”

Prince Loki, the Asgardian Ambassador to earth, wriggled out from underneath the device and sat up. Darius noticed three things about him all at once. Firstly, the ambassador looked  _ a lot _ younger up close. Second, he had  _ really _ intense green eyes. Third, he was wearing a black t-shirt that said “The credible Hulk backs all his statements with reliable sources” and had a cartoon of the Hulk wearing glasses.

“So I take it he passed, then?” asked the ambassador in an accent that sounded vaguely British.

“He did indeed,” Lady Sigyn replied.

“Hmm,” the ambassador said, rising to his feet. He wiped his hands on his pants and held his right hand out to Darius. “Hello. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr Miller.”

“It’s an honor, sir,” Darius managed to say without stuttering as he shook the ambassador’s hand. “Thank you for considering me.”

“Well, you  _ were _ our only candidate,” the ambassador said breezily, giving Darius’ hand a firm but brief shake. 

“I… was?” Darius asked, glancing between the ambassador and his wife. Lady Sigyn shrugged.

“I had a good vibe about you,” she said with a mysterious smile. She looked around suddenly, her expression concerned. “Babe, where is Hela?”

“Hiding in the stacks,” the ambassador said, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb.

“Why is she hiding?” Lady Sigyn asked suspiciously.

“Because she broke a critical component of my nullifier and she is too embarrassed to admit she doesn’t know how to make a new one,” the ambassador said casually.

Lady Sigyn looked from her husband to the storage shelves and back. “Has she not asked for help?”

“No, she has not,” the ambassador replied.

Lady Sigyn sighed. “As if I need a new reason to resent Skuld,” she said. “Hela! Come here, please!”

A teenage girl poked her head out from the end of one of the shelves. She had very pale skin and very dark hair. Her eyes, Darius was startled to notice, were completely, solidly black. “Yes, Stepmother?” she asked in a hesitant voice.

“Come here, please,” Lady Sigyn said firmly.

The teenager shuffled out into the open and walked reluctantly over to stand on the other side of the device the ambassador had been working on. She stared at the ground at Lady Sigyn’s feet. Neither Lady Sigyn nor the ambassador looked old enough to have a teenage daughter, even if she called Lady Sigyn “Stepmother.”

“Why haven’t you asked for help if you needed it?” Lady Sigyn asked in a gentle voice.

The girl--Hela, presumably--glowered harder at the ground. “I am capable of machining a simple mechanical component, Stepmother,” she muttered.

“Perhaps, but there is nothing wrong with asking for help if you need it, you know that, right?” Lady Sigyn continued in the same gentle voice.

Hela scowled harder and said nothing, but jerked her head in a nod. Lady Sigyn reached out and patted the girl’s shoulder. The girl flinched but didn’t pull away. “Things are different now, Hela,” Lady Sigyn told her. “Whatever Skuld did, we’re not doing that here. Okay?”

“Yes, Stepmother,” Hela said dutifully. She heaved a deep sigh and turned to scowl at the floor in front of the ambassador’s feet. “I require assistance, Father.”

“Very well,” the ambassador said in a mild tone. “If you wait one moment, I will be happy to help you.”

Hela slunk over to one of the workbenches and began fiddling with the tools there. Lady Sigyn turned to Darius. “Sorry about that. Family stuff. Did you have any questions for Loki?”

“Uh, yes,” Darius said. “What, exactly are going to be the scope of my duties? What are my hours going to be like? Will I have days off? I don’t have any experience in political science. Is that going to be an issue?”

The ambassador smiled thinly. “I need someone who can keep a schedule for me, arrange for meetings, meals, venues, press conferences and the like. Someone who can explain human customs should my wife not be present. Someone to make phone calls for me. I despise making phone calls and unfortunately your entire planet relies heavily on the use of mobile phones.”

“He hates texting, too,” Lady Sigyn cut in. “He barely tolerates video chat.”

“How do people communicate on Asgard?” Darius asked. Both the ambassador’s and Lady Sigyn’s demeanor had done a great deal to put him at his ease, and he was finding it easier to ask questions.

“These,” Lady Sigyn said, turning her head to the side and pointing to a small golden circle embedded behind her right ear. “It’s called a communer. It’s sort of a mental radio that lets you connect, or commune, with anyone else that has one. They work anywhere, on any planet, but both you and the person you’re calling have to be on the same planet.”

“That is… really cool,” Darius said, impressed.

“As I was saying,” the ambassador said, giving his wife a fondly exasperated look. “Political experience is not a requirement for the job. You will be liaising with our public relations team on a regular basis, however, so your experience there will be valuable. As for your other questions, I am told that the standard amount of working hours in a week here in America is forty, and anything over that is called overtime,” He looked over at his wife for confirmation, and she nodded. “You may work as much or as little overtime as you would like, and you will be appropriately compensated. I have also been informed that humans require two days off per week, so you will be entitled to those, however I am not sure which days those will be at this moment. They may not be the same per week, depending on what I require.”

“That is understandable,” Darius said, nodding. He had come through the shock and was in a sort of numbness. He still couldn’t believe that he had been the only candidate for the personal assistant of the first alien ambassador to earth. He was pretty sure he was dreaming and was going to wake up any minute and realize he was late for work.

“There’s one more thing,” Lady Sigyn said, raising her hand slightly. “You are going to be required to learn how to read and write Ancient Norse.”

Darius stared at her for a few seconds. “I...see?” he said in a squeaky voice.

“Loki isn’t very comfortable with reading and writing English or pretty much any other earth language, so his notes are all going to be in Ancient Norse, which is what they speak on Asgard,” Lady Sigyn explained. “Also you may be required to read things to him if they’re in English. And operate computers on his behalf. Basically earth technology is so outdated for Asgardians it’s like a modern college student trying to figure out how to use a printing press or something.”

“ _ Thank _ you,  _ elskede _ ,” the ambassador said, his expression more exasperated than fond. “I am perfectly capable of revealing my own shortcomings.”

Lady Sigyn gave him a withering look. “Shortcomings  _ nothing _ , babe. Don’t apologize because you come from a race of super-advanced people and humans are still in the process of discovering fire.”

“I thought you hated it when I did that,” the ambassador said.

“No, I hate it when you’re a snob about it,” Lady Sigyn corrected. “Hela is getting bored, so we’d better go and let you keep working.”

“Very well,” the ambassador said, leaning over to kiss his wife on the forehead. “I will see you shortly.”

“Don’t blow anything up,” Lady Sigyn warned, and beckoned for Darius to follow as she left. “Right. So. Any other questions?”

“Uh, yes,” Darius said. “Don’t embassies usually have a lobby or something where people apply for visas?”

Lady Sigyn chuckled. “We have a lobby, yes, but Asgard is not issuing any visas right now. Asgard is currently in the middle of a transition of power, and the whole realm is closed to any outside visitors. Once the transition is complete we’ll open negotiations with the UN to allow carefully selected humans into Asgard for educational or political reasons. Asgard has no desire to become a tourist destination.”

“Well, it’s not like we have any way of getting to Asgard,” Darius pointed out. “Asgard can very easily control who visits Asgard since they have the only way of getting there.”

Lady Sigyn smiled at him. “Precisely. Now, our HR team is off today like everyone else, but our lawyer has graciously agreed to come over and handle your intake.”

“Wait, that’s it?” Darius blurted. “Isn’t there… I don’t know… a background check? Psych eval?”

“SI already did your background check and I did your psych eval when I walked in the room with you,” Lady Sigyn told him with a sly smile. She pointed to her temple. “Mad norn skills.”

“Oh,” Darius said weakly.

“I just have one more question for you,” Lady Sigyn said.

“Yes?” Darius asked.

“When can you start?”

Darius took a deep breath. “Tomorrow. I can definitely start tomorrow.”


	2. The Last of the Real Ones

There were some distinct drawbacks to being promoted to a leadership position solely because everyone above you had been gruesomely murdered. Namely, the complete lack of experience. It was one thing to  _ call _ yourself the Sorcerer Supreme, and a completely different thing to actually  _ be _ the Sorcerer Supreme. It involved far more administrative work than Stephen had ever anticipated, even with as much as he delegated.

Wong was doing just fine on his own in Kamar-Taj, and so were the new masters of the Sanctums in London and Hong Kong. There were a few grumblings about the Sorcerer Supreme setting up shop at the New York Sanctum, but Stephen was very good at ignoring people.

He had his nose buried in a book he’d been painfully translating from Sanskrit when one of his assistants knocked timidly on the frame of the open door. He glanced up, initially annoyed, and then stopped himself, taking a deep breath. The young woman seemed to sense his irritation at being interrupted however, and flinched when he made eye contact.

Stephen sighed. “Yes?” he asked in a mild voice.

The young woman--Ankita, he believed--refused to raise her eyes above the ground again. “There is a woman here to see you, sir,” she said in a heavy Hindi accent.

Stephen frowned. He didn’t recall making an appointment with anyone today. “Who is she?” he demanded.

“She did not give a name, sir,” Ankita said softly, still staring fixedly at the floor.

“Is she from one of the Sanctums?” Stephen pressed.

“No, sir,” Ankita whispered. “She came in from the street.”

That made Stephen frown even harder. The average citizen of New York City shouldn’t even be aware the Sanctum even existed. The wards and spells on the building meant that people would walk right by without ever looking up. They didn’t even get mail. So someone who walked in from the street was either very, very special, or very, very dangerous.

“Where is she?” Stephen asked, rising to his feet.

“In the foyer, sir,” Ankita said.

“Thank you, Ankita,” Stephen said, sighing internally and making a mental note to spend some one-on-one time with the young woman to work on her confidence. “Please return to your studies.”

“Yes, sir,” Ankita murmured, and scurried away.

It was one of the more intimidating part of his job, to train younger and newer sorcerers. He didn’t particularly enjoy it, as he was still learning himself. He’d been appointed Sorcerer Supreme on the merits of his  _ potential _ , not on his ability, and he was concerned that one of these days soon that particular hen was going to come home to roost, or however that saying went.

He retrieved his gloves from the desk and tugged them on as he strode out of the office. When he passed the coat rack, the Cloak of Levitation detached itself and draped over his shoulders, settling into place with the ease of long practice.

Stephen had to pass two of the main classrooms on his way to the grand staircase, and he stopped to poke his head into both. With so many of the experienced sorcerers having been killed by Kaecilius and his followers, the ones left spent most of their time travelling between the Sanctums to teach the new novices.

Satisfied that classes were going smoothly, Stephen continued to the grand staircase and paused at the top. In the foyer below him waited a woman. Young, if appearances could be believed, mid-twenties at the most. She was dressed quite smartly in a white skirt suit and a purple blouse, her hair pinned up in an intricate style. She did not carry a purse or a clutch, which Stephen immediately thought was suspect, because no woman who spent that much money on a suit would  _ not _ carry at least a clutch.

Sitting on the floor beside the woman was the largest canine Stephen had seen to date. It was roughly the size of a small bear, and very closely resembled a wolf. It turned to peer curiously up at Stephen and he noted it had eyes a strange shade of green.

Stephen knew that he cut a rather impressive figure coming down the stairs, with the Cloak billowing obligingly. The woman raised one dark eyebrow as she watched him descend. Otherwise her expression didn’t change.

As he approached her, he noted other things about her, like the matching necklace and earring set was deceptively expensive, and that ouroboros bracelet on her right wrist was handmade. He also noticed that the chopsticks holding her hair up were needle-sharp and could easily double as weapons.

“I’m Dr Stephen Strange, the master of this Sanctum,” Stephen introduced himself brusquely. “And you are?”

The woman offered her hand with a smile curling her lips. “Lady Sigyn of the Sisterhood of the Norns, Mother of the Ways and Host of Ragnarok. How do you do?”

Stephen recovered enough to actually take her hand. She grasped his firmly, but briefly, and let go as soon as was politely acceptable. He continued to stare at her for a heartbeat or two more. 

What in the name of the arcane arts was the wife of the Asgardian Ambassador doing  _ here _ ? How had she even found the place? And what the hell was a mother of the ways or the host of Ragnarok?

“How can I help you, Lady Sigyn?” Stephen asked, keeping his voice polite.

Lady Sigyn reached out almost instinctively, resting her hand on the shoulder of the giant wolf-beast-dog-thing. It blinked slowly and tilted its head, still staring curiously at Stephen.

“Well, I have just established an embassy in this city with my husband, and I am making a point to reach out to those with… power,” Lady Sigyn said with that same mysterious smile. “Especially when there is an Infinity Stone involved.”

Stephen just barely managed to keep his expression blank. “I’m sorry, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Please, Dr Strange, let’s not insult each other,” Lady Sigyn said, her smile fading. “You and I both know that this is a Sanctum Sanctorum and that there is a portal to Kamar-Taj in this building, where an Infinity Stone is being housed.”

Stephen considered the woman for a moment. “Yes, but that begs the question as to how  _ you _ know that,” he said.

“I’m a norn,” Lady Sigyn replied, as if that explained everything.

Stephen sighed internally. “Why don’t we continue this conversation in my office? Would you care for some tea?”

“I would love some tea,” Lady Sigyn said. 

Stephen gallantly offered the woman his arm, which she accepted gracefully. When they began to ascend the stairs, the wolf-dog thing fell into step on Lady Sigyn’s other side.

“That is a very interesting dog,” Stephen commented. “What breed is he?”

“Canis lupus,” Lady Sigyn replied with that mysterious smile.

Stephen startled before catching himself. “A wolf?” he asked, eying the beast warily. “I had no idea they got that big.”

“They don’t,” Lady Sigyn said. “On earth, anyway.”

“I see,” Stephen said quietly. Neither of them spoke again until they reached his office, and he poured two cups of tea. “Now, Lady Sigyn, what  _ precisely _ can I do for you?”

“Are you aware of who and what the norns are?” Lady Sigyn asked, teacup in one hand and the other resting on the wolf’s shoulder.

“I can’t say that I am,” Stephen said, ignoring his own teacup on the desk in front of him.

“The norns are a sisterhood dedicated to the enforcement of fate, administration of justice, and preservation of knowledge,” Lady Sigyn explained. “We are immortal and eternal, and we also act as protectors and guardians of the universe.”

“Protectors?” Stephen echoed. “You don’t seem to be doing a very good job at the moment.”

Lady Sigyn raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know. You humans seem to be doing a pretty good job taking care of yourselves.”

Stephen fell silent for a moment. “Why hasn’t anyone heard about you on earth before, then?”

“We haven’t been needed on earth for awhile now,” Lady Sigyn replied. “The last time the universe at large paid any attention to this planet was over a thousand and a half years ago. But I was personally present during the attack on New York, and again in London, as well as involved in tracking down and eradicating the remnants of Hydra.” She gave Stephen a pointed look as she sipped from her teacup. She put the cup down on the desk.

“As for your encounter with Dormammu, I apologize that I wasn’t able to assist with that. During that time I was actually in an alternate timeline trying to apprehend a dangerous criminal.”

Stephen’s interest perked up at that. “Alternate timeline? Really? How did you manage to cross into another reality?”

“Trade secret,” Lady Sigyn said, stroking the wolf’s neck. “I do, however, try to make an effort to ensure the security of the Infinity Stones. I’ve already removed two from earth for your people’s safety and I need to determine whether or not the Time Stone needs to be removed as well.”

Stephen bristled. “What makes you think you have the right to ‘remove’ the Stone from earth?” he snapped.

Lady Sigyn gave him a flat stare with a sort of power behind it he had only ever seen the Ancient One achieve. “What makes you think you have the right to possess it?” she asked.

“The Eye of Agamotto has been protected by Kamar-taj for hundreds of years,” Stephen informed her stiffly.

“The Time Stone doesn’t belong to earth,” Lady Sigyn said mildly, still stroking the thick fur ruff around the wolf’s neck. “The Stones are dangerous. They don’t belong anywhere, and they shouldn’t be used lightly.”

“It  _ wasn’t _ used lightly,” Stephen said tightly. “At the time I was trying to save the  _ planet _ .”

“I understand that,” Lady Sigyn said, nodding. “Which is why I’m speaking with you and not in Kamar-taj removing the Stone.”

“The Eye of Agamotto is being guarded in the most magically secure location on earth by the most powerful sorcerers on earth,” Stephen pointed out. “I think you would have a hard time  _ removing _ it.”

“ _ From _ earth,” Lady Sigyn said.

Stephen blinked at her. “I beg your pardon?”

“Most powerful sorcerers  _ from _ earth,” Lady Sigyn corrected. “Not  _ on _ earth.” She tilted her head to one side.

Stephen narrowed his eyes, trying to determine if that was a threat or not.

“I’m not threatening you,” Lady Sigyn said, as if she could read Stephen’s mind. “I am attempting to determine if you are an adequate guardian for the Time Stone. To be honest, I’m running out of safe places to keep the Stones. I’ve already got three in the the treasure room on Asgard, and I don’t like having that many in one place.”

Stephen leaned back in his chair and steepled his gloved fingers. For a long, silent moment he studied the woman sitting across from him. She stared evenly back. “Well?” he asked sarcastically. “What is your assessment?”

“You really want to know?” she challenged.

“Now you’ve made me curious,” Stephen said.

Lady Sigyn leaned forward. “You haven’t been using your powers long. Only a little over three years. You’re intimidated by your position of leadership but you feel you have an image and reputation to keep up. You are still rather arrogant despite certainly coming a long way and you hate asking for help in any way.”

“Oh, is that all?” Stephen asked, his tone arid. “Well if that is your final assess-”

“ _ However _ ,” Lady Sigyn interrupted. “Your desire to protect the innocent is stronger than your pride and you fully intend to use every power at your disposal to keep anyone like Dormammu from threatening your planet again, regardless of the cost.”

Stephen blinked at her again. “I see,” he said softly.

Lady Sigyn rose to her feet and held out a white business card he did not see her retrieve from anywhere. “I think you are a more than adequate guardian for the Time Stone for the moment, Dr Strange. I hope to be able to consider you an ally in the protection of this planet.”

Stephen rose to his feet and took the card carefully. Her name, and address in Manhattan, and a phone number were printed in neat, purple letters. “Why do you care what happens to this planet?” he asked.

Lady Sigyn smiled warmly. “This realm has been my home for a very, very long time, Dr Strange. I would like for it to remain that way for the time being. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll see myself out.”

With that she swept regally out of the office, the wolf still at her side.

Stephen stood in his now-empty office for a moment longer, staring down at the business card in his hand. Well,  _ that _ certainly had been interesting. 

XxxXxxX

Christine Everhart had worked hard for where she was now. After leaving her position with Vanity Fair, she had fought tooth and claw among the other freelance journalists for every story she had sold to the major news networks. She’d had to be twice as smart, twice as determined, and twice as stubborn as any one of the male freelance journalists she competed with. But it was like her mother always said; women had to work twice as hard to be thought of as half as good.

But she’d gotten there, and she was nowhere near finished. She’d entered the bid for this interview fully intending to win, and here she was, sitting on the soundstage, watching the clock count down until they went live.

The sound stage was buzzing with activity, everyone running here and there trying to get everything ready on time. Christine had finished with hair and makeup ten minutes early, and was reviewing the list of questions that had been approved by the ambassador’s PR team. She’d be going off-script, of course, because no good journalism came from following the rules, but it was good to know what lines she’d be crossing.

She hadn’t seen either the ambassador or his wife yet, but she had spoken briefly to the ambassador’s personal assistant, who had checked to make sure she had the list of questions and had signed the liability forms.

Christine had never had to sign liability forms for a sound stage interview before, but apparently she was required to take responsibility for her own safety in case of a “hostile event” and was not permitted to sue the embassy or any staff of the embassy for injuries sustained during such an event. She was also required to sign a form stating she would not take any photos or recordings of the ambassador, his wife, or any of his staff other than the agreed-upon interview.

She really thought it was all a bit ridiculous. The security on the sound stage was extremely tight. Christine had had to submit to a weapons check by an Asgardian security officer wearing actual armor, and then another check performed by an enormous beast of a dog. The dog was actually still wandering free in the sound stage, given a wide berth by the film crew.

The ambassador’s PA appeared on the sound stage again, a phone tucked between his shoulder and his ear and his arms full of a tablet, two water bottles, and a fruit basket. “Sorry, Angela, I don’t know. The delegate hasn’t gotten back with me yet. I’ve tried calling his office six times in the last two days,” he was saying as he walked by.

He stopped and freed one hand so he could hold the phone. “Yeah, that might work. Sif is pretty intimidating. She can probably wrangle an answer out of him. The boss really wants to meet personally with the delegate before he heads over there. Yeah, that’ll work. I’ll bring it up after the interview. Yes, I’ll keep my phone on. Please don’t text me about Lady Sigyn’s makeup again.  _ Yes, _ Angela.  _ Thank _ you.”

The PA, whose name Christine had never gotten, sighed and shoved the phone back in his pocket before continuing on to the green room.

Christine checked the countdown clock. Less than five minutes. They were broadcasting live over several major news networks. It would be Christine’s biggest break, including her pieces on Tony Stark and her exposé on Justin Hammer. She had to get this perfect.

At two minutes until broadcast, the ambassador’s PA returned with the ambassador and his wife in tow. Christine rose to her feet eagerly. The ambassador was every bit as attractive in person as he was on TV, and quite a bit taller than she expected. He was dressed in Asgardian clothing, all green and gold and black. He was not wearing the gold crown with the horns, to Christine’s disappointment.

His wife, on the other hand, was much shorter than Christine had expected. She was wearing a gorgeous Asgardian dress, also in green and gold, and she had a golden band in her hair. When they approached the soundstage, Christine went to greet them.

“Prince Loki, Princess Sigyn, hello. I’m Christine Everhart. It’s an honor to finally meet you,” she said with her best smile. She’d been warned not to try to shake hands with either, so she kept her hands clasped in front of her.

“Thank you,” the ambassador said demurely. “However, my wife’s title is ‘Lady,’ not ‘Princess.’”

“Oh,” Christine said, caught off guard. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”

“Yes, you see, on Asgard, we always use the title holding the higher authority,” the ambassador explained politely. “And Sigyn’s position as a norn has much greater prestige than a princess. In fact,” the ambassador said with a fond smile, looking down at the woman at his side. “She far outranks me.”

“Don’t do that,” Lady Sigyn said with a frown. “You know I’m already nervous enough.”

The ambassador leaned down towards her and whispered something that Christine didn’t catch. But whatever he said cleared Lady Sigyn’s expression and she shook her head with a faint smile.

“Please, won’t you both please have a seat,” Christine invited. “We’re about to begin.”

The couple settled onto the couch, the ambassador’s hand resting on his wife’s thigh. Lady Sigyn slid her hand under his and interlaced their fingers. Despite her statement, she didn’t look outwardly nervous, though she did have a slight glazed look in her eye.

The countdown reached zero and Christine faced the camera, her brilliant smile pasted on. “Hello, and welcome,” she said. “I’m Christine Everhart and I am here with the ambassador from Asgard, Prince Loki, and his wife, Lady Sigyn, in their first ever television interview.” She turned to the two aliens. “Thank you so much for being here. It’s a great honor.”

Prince Loki inclined his head slightly. Lady Sigyn did not respond.

Christine kept smiling and glanced down at the notes in her hand. “Why don’t we get started? You established the Asgardian Embassy about two months ago. What are your first thoughts about living on earth?”

Lady Sigyn found that amusing for some reason, because she chuckled quietly and bumped her shoulder into Prince Loki’s. He glanced down at her, a smile curling his thin mouth. 

“Well, I personally have been living on earth for over two years now,” Prince Loki said. “And Sigyn has been here significantly longer.”

Christine was professional enough not to let her surprise show on her face. “Oh? How long, exactly?”

Lady Sigyn smiled lopsidedly. “About fifteen hundred years, give or take a decade,” she replied.

Christine blinked. She knew, like everyone knew, that the Asgardians were longer-lived than humans, that Thor and Loki were  _ the _ Thor and Loki of Norse myth, but to hear it said out loud like this was something else. 

“What have you been doing on earth for that time?” Christine demanded.

Lady Sigyn’s expression did not change. “You know. Norn things,” she said mysteriously.

Christine glanced again at her notes and then realized this interview was probably not going to go anything like what she had planned. She looked back up. “So you’ve been witness to some pretty significant parts of our history,” she said, focusing on Lady Sigyn. “Objectively, how would you say we compare to other planets you’ve visited?”

Lady Sigyn raised her eyebrows and glanced at her husband, aware that Christine was now going obviously off-script.

“Earth is a very young planet,” she said softly, looking back at Christine. “Maybe not in years it has existed, but in terms of higher life forms. Humans, modern humans, anyway, have only been around for roughly 200,000 years. Asgard, for instance, can trace its current royal line back over 45 generations, with an average life span of 5-7 thousand years, you’re looking at anywhere from 225,000 to 315,000 years. And that’s just the  _ current  _ royal line. Thor and Loki’s ancestors conquered Asgard and the Nine Realms by warring with the previous dynasty, which stretches back even further. Some societies on some planets have existed for  _ millions _ of years, not just thousands.”

She shrugged. “So yes, I would have to say earth is very, very young.”

“So basically what you're saying is that we’re still going through growing pains?” Christine pressed.

Lady Sigyn narrowed her eyes at Christine. “I’m saying that earth has a long way to go before it can compare itself to a lot of other planets out there,” she said evasively.

Christine knew she had a limited amount of time, so she decided to move on. Maybe she would circle back to that topic later. “Prince Loki, we’ve recently had the State Department issue statements saying they don’t feel you are qualified to act as a representative to the UN. What do you have to say about that?”

“What information are those statements based on?” Prince Loki asked, tilting his head to the side. “What cause do they have to doubt my qualifications?”

“Both you and your brother have fought side-by-side with the Avengers on several occasions,” Christine explained. “People take that to mean that Asgard is a war-like society if important political figures such as yourselves are willing to place yourselves at the front lines. And they want to know why we are allowing a war-like society such as yours to be part of the UN, which was formed for the promotion of peace.”

Prince Loki tilted his head again, one eyebrow arching upwards. “War-like society?” he echoed.

Lady Sigyn held a hand over her mouth and muttered, “Here we go.”

“Asgard has maintained and enforced peace between the Nine Realms for over a thousand years,” Prince Loki said, sounding indignant. “These detractors are passing judgement on Asgard solely on the fact that my brother and I, the sons of the kings, choose to fight alongside the Avengers?” 

Prince Loki leaned forward, brows drawing together. “If any of the Nine Realms should require the assistance of Asgard, it would be Thor and I that would answer the call, not the Einherjar. If you were asking for the assistance of another realm, would you not wish for their greatest warriors?”

“But if you were trained for war, what qualifies you to negotiate for peace?” Christine asked, sitting on the edge of her chair. This was it, this was the real deal. This was what she had fought to win this interview for.

Prince Loki gave her a disdainful look. “On earth, your presidents and kings and prime ministers lead from conference rooms and the safety of their offices. On Asgard, we ride ahead of our armies into battle and shed the first blood. We are trained for combat from the time we take our first steps. But we are also trained to be  _ kings _ . I have been acting as a representative of Asgard to other realms since childhood, and I have served as a negotiator for far longer than this country has even existed.”

Christine caught sight of the commercial warning and nodded. “Thank you for that eloquent answer, Prince Loki. Stay with us, we’ll be right back.”

XxxXxxX

“...Arrogance and air of superiority, as if he is always looking down on lesser species like us,” Darcy finished reading the article and looked up across the room. “See what I mean?”

Heimdall nodded gravely. He was standing at the edge of the open Bifrost chamber, looking out at the stars. Darcy was seated by the empty socket on the dais in a very comfortable chair Heimdall had had waiting for her.

“They’re watching us,  _ wanting _ us to screw up,” Darcy complained, folding the magazine in half and stuffing it down the side of the chair. “You would think people would be like, ‘holy shit! Aliens! That’s so cool!’”

Heimdall turned to face her, a skeptical expression on his face. “They  _ are _ your people. Are you truly surprised?”

“No,” Darcy said sullenly. “I just wish I didn’t feel like I have to perform perfectly every time I step outside the embassy. It’s really freaking stressful.”

“Such is the burden of authority,” Heimdall reminded her. “You carry a heavy burden, Darcy. You cannot afford to make a mistake, any more than I could in my duty.”

“I know,” Darcy said with a deep sigh. “I just hate it.”

“If one carries a responsibility for a great amount of time, it is possible to come to resent it,” Heimdall said, nodding again.

Darcy rubbed her hand down her face, and only remembered afterward to check to see if she was wearing makeup. She wasn’t, to her relief. “Do you?” she asked. She gestured vaguely to the Bifrost around them. “You ever wish you could just pack it up and be all, ‘peace out, bitches, I’m going on vaca?’”

“I do,” Heimdall surprised her by saying. “Many times over the years have I wished to pass on my duties to another. But I have not.”

“Why?” Darcy asked.

“Because there is no other who can see what I see,” Heimdall told her with a sad smile. “Until there is born in Asgard a child who has the same sight, I will remain at my post.”

Darcy rested her chin on her hand. “Did you ever consider, you know,  _ helping _ that along?”

“How do you mean?” Heimdall asked.

Darcy gestured again. “You know,” she repeated. “I’m sure your gift could be passed on genetically. You’re a good-looking dude. Any Asgardian would be lucky to have you.”

Heimdall chuckled in his low, melodic voice. “Who says I have not?”

Darcy straightened. “ _ What? _ ” she demanded. “You have a family and I never knew?”

Heimdall laughed at her again. “Dearest friend, you are the  _ fóstra _ of my son.”

Darcy stared at him, eyes wide. “I  _ am _ ?”

“His name is Rig,” Heimdall told her. “He lives in Vanaheim with his mother, Vora.”

“How did I not know this?” Darcy complained, glaring up at him.

“You have been awakened in this vessel for less than five years, my friend,” Heimdall reminded her. “I am sure there are many things you have yet to remember.”

“Yeah, but you could have  _ told _ me,” Darcy muttered, crossing her arms.

“You have many other things to concern yourself with other than my personal life,  _ meyla _ ,” Heimdall told her gently.

Darcy sighed again. “How often do you get to see him?”

“My wife and son travel to Asgard every sixteenth day,” Heimdall said.

“And he didn’t inherit your sight?” Darcy asked.

“He did not,” Heimdall said, though with a fond expression on his face. “He took after his mother. She sees the future in her dreams, sometimes. Rig has the same dreams.”

“I’d like to meet them,” Darcy relaxed back in her chair. “How old is Rig?”

“He is grown, now,” Heimdall said. “Nearly to his majority. The Allfather promised him a place in the court here. I believe Thor intends to uphold that promise.”

“I’m sure he will,” Darcy agreed. “Someone who can see the future will probably come in handy.”

Heimdall grunted and walked toward the dais. He stopped at the first step, but still towered over Darcy. “You did not come here to discuss my family, Darcy,” he reminded her. “Tell me the rest of your troubles.”

Darcy rubbed her nose. “You know, we have a very uneven relationship. I show up here whenever I need to vent, dump all my shit on you, and then bail. What do you get out of this?”

“The knowledge that I help ease the burdens of the Mother of the Ways and the Host of Ragnarok, and that the end of the universe as we know it is delayed yet another little while,” Heimdall told her with a gentle smile.

Darcy squinted up at him. “Your wife is a very,  _ very _ lucky woman,” she said.

Heimdall nodded in agreement. “She is.”

XxxXxxX

Darcy had an AI who was specifically programmed to be her personal assistant, and she was  _ still _ running late. She’d had a meeting with the CEO’s of various charities she and Loki were considering publicly supporting, and it had gone over by nearly forty-five minutes because one CEO had made a snide comment about Darcy being subservient to her husband and just like that Darcy had decided that there was no way in hell Asgard would ever be associated with Disabled Police Officers of America. Which she then had to explain to the chauvinist CEO for half an hour.

Darcy reached up to tap her invisible earpiece. “ETTA, put together a list of the highest-rated charities for disabled former first-responders and send an email to their CEO offices requesting a meeting, then see if you can set up something next month. Oh, and send flowers to the PA of the CEO of Disabled Police Officers of America with a note that says: I’m sorry for what you have to put up with. Make it anonymous.”

“Right away, Lady Sigyn,” ETTA replied with her pleasant voice. Like her predecessor, she had a crisp British accent and a dry sense of humor. Given that JARVIS had been instrumental in her programing, that wasn’t much of a surprise. Apparently the two AI’s kept in daily contact, and Tony had complained that JARVIS had developed a crush.

Darcy went to rub her eyes and remembered at the last minute that she was wearing eyeshadow. She sighed, frustrated, and looked out the window of the car. Her phone vibrated in her hand and she looked down. It was a message from Steve.

_ dinner wed still on? _

_ mos def _ , Darcy texted back.  _ just got more mead from A. prep 2 b turnt. _

_ yeah, right,  _ Steve replied.

Darcy smiled briefly and looked up again. They had just reached the gates to the embassy. When the car came to a stop, Darcy opened the door herself. “Thank you, Charles,” she told the driver as she got out and headed toward the door.

“Lady Sigyn, your four fifteen appointment is waiting for you,” ETTA announced in Darcy’s ear.

“Thank you,” Darcy replied, waving at the Einherjar who opened the door for her. The office area of the embassy was busy today, and the staff greeted her cheerfully as she passed. She had a smile for each of them, even as disgruntled as she felt from her meeting.

She entered her office from the back door so she didn’t have to walk through the waiting room. She set her phone on the desk and summoned her tablet, putting that on the desk as well. “ETTA, who is my four fifteen, anyway?”

“She is the reporter from the  _ Daily Bulletin _ ,” ETTA responded helpfully. “Mr. Nelson requested the interview on her behalf.”

“Right,” Darcy said, nodding. “Foggy’s friend who wanted to do the cultural piece. Got it.” She headed toward the front door to her office. As she opened it, she fixed a smile on her face.

“I’m so sorry for running late,” she began as she stepped into the waiting area. When she caught sight of the blonde woman just now rising to her feet, however, she came to a complete halt. For several seconds they stared at each other, wide-eyed.

“ _ Darcy _ ?” the blonde woman demanded.

“Karen?” Darcy said weakly. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I-- What are  _ you _ doing here?” Karen Page asked irately. “Do you work here or something?”

“No…” Darcy said slowly. “I’m, well, I’m Lady Sigyn.”

  
Karen stared at her flatly for another few seconds. “You have  _ got _ to be shitting me.”


	3. Sugar, We're Going Down

For a moment neither woman spoke, and then Karen went pale. “Oh, god, you’re actually serious.”

“Yes?” Darcy squeaked.

Karen pressed her hand to her forehead. “I  _ thought _ she looked like you, I just thought it was a coincidence. I didn’t think she was  _ actually _ you.” She lowered her hand and stared at Darcy for a couple more seconds. “You  _ lied _ to me,” she accused.

“Not technically,” Darcy said, her voice still pitched slightly high. “I mean, I didn’t know who I was when we first met.”

“What the hell does that even _ mean _ ?” Karen demanded.

Darcy pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed heavily. “Oh, god, you are going to have to sign so many NDAs.”

“Because you’re lying to everyone that you’re an alien when you’re  _ not _ ?” Karen asked.

Darcy glared at the taller woman. “No,” she said shortly. She gestured shortly. “You might as well come in and sit down.”

“So you can lie to me some more?” Karen accused.

Darcy leaned forward, poking a finger into Karen’s chest. “ _ I’m _ not the one who got a transfer in the middle of the semester without telling anyone and then left with, like, five minute’s notice, so why don’t you calm the hell down and actually  _ listen _ for once in your life?”

“I think I have a very valid reason to be upset!” Karen shot back, slapping Darcy’s hand away. “You’ve told the entire world that you’re an alien from another planet, but I know for a fact you were born in Philadelphia! I’ve met your parents!”

“And if you gave me a chance I might actually explain what was going on,” Darcy retorted. “But no, you have to fly off the handle like you always do.”

“I do not ‘fly off the handle,’” Karen replied defensively. “You’re the one that got bent out of shape over everything.”

“The only thing I got bent out of shape over was you abusing Adderall, which I never told anyone about, in case you conveniently forgot,” Darcy snapped.

“Yeah, well maybe your self-righteous attitude about it was why I left,” Karen snarled.

For a moment both women stood silently, staring at each other and slightly taken aback by the ferocity of their argument.

“So, I take it you two know each other,” Loki drawled from the doorway to Darcy’s office.

Karen jumped with a gasp but Darcy merely turned to glare at her husband. “This was a private conversation,” she told him sharply.

“Then maybe you should not have been letting your emotions bleed all over our bond, my dear,” Loki replied dryly. “Judging from your ire and your words, I am guessing the two of you were lovers at some point.”

Darcy glowered but nodded. “Remember how I told you I had a girlfriend in college? This is her. Karen Page.”

“Hello, Karen Page, I am Loki Odinson, Lady Sigyn’s husband,” Loki said smoothly, offering his hand to Karen.

“Um, hi,” she replied nervously. “Lovely to meet you, your highness.”

“Please, just Loki,” Loki demurred. “I am sorry that your split with Lady Sigyn was less than amicable, but could I trouble you not to refer to her by the name ‘Darcy’ in public? It belongs to an alias we would prefer no one knew about.”

“Alias?” Karen said weakly.

Darcy waved toward her office. “Come in and sit down, please, Karen,” she said stiffly. “ETTA, please send someone from legal up with the standard NDA folder.”

“Right away, Lady Sigyn,” ETTA said briskly.

“What kind of NDAs?” Karen asked suspiciously as Loki graciously escorted her into the office and to the chair in front of Darcy’s desk. 

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Loki assured her. “Simply ensuring that you do not spread private or sensitive information to sources that may use it to harm or undermine the embassy.”

“I wouldn’t do that!” Karen protested.

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Loki agreed, patting her arm comfortingly. “It is just a formality.”

Darcy rolled her eyes at the sight of her husband charming the socks off her ex and circled her desk to open the hidden drawer. She pulled out a crystal bottle of Asgardian mead and three small tumblers. She poured a miniscule amount into two of the tumblers and a generous portion into the third.

“Sip slowly,” she warned, pushing one of the less-filled glasses toward Karen. “It’s not meant for mortal constitutions.”

Karen sniffed it suspiciously before taking a cautious sip. “Oh,” she said, her eyes widening.

“Yeah,” Darcy said, and downed hers in one go. She braced herself for the brief rush before her system metabolized the alcohol. “Look, Karen, there is a reasonable explanation for everything.” she began, and paused. “Well, sort of reasonable. Actually, not really reasonable, but it is true.”

“None of that made any sense,” Karen said, shaking her head.

“Darcy Lewis was an alias used by my wife for a brief period while she was convalescing,” Loki said smoothly, reaching over for the bottle of mead so he could fill Karen’s glass a little fuller.

“Convalescing?” Karen echoed, looking slightly star-struck. Darcy resisted the urge to facepalm. Loki, when he wanted to, could be incredibly charming and could convince nearly anyone of nearly anything.

“From a serious injury,” Loki continued solemnly. “In fact, it had caused her to lose most of her memory.”

“Seriously? You’re trying to sell me an amnesia story?” Karen asked dubiously, looking between Loki and Darcy.

Darcy kept her emotions off her face. She knew that the fewer people who knew that Lady Sigyn was also Darcy Lewis, the safer her parents and brothers would be, but she had never enjoyed lying. Loki could spin a tale as easy as breathing, and she could be convincing if she used her norn-voice, but it wasn’t her first resort.

“Sigyn was placed with the Lewis family to facilitate her recovery in safety,” Loki continued as if Karen hadn’t interrupted. “Even as powerful as they are, the norns have enemies, and the anonymity of a human disguise gave Sigyn the chance she needed to heal and recover her memories.”

Karen sat silently for a moment, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Really?” she asked. “So if I call Joanne and George Lewis, they’ll corroborate this story?”

Since it was the backstory they’d already established when Darcy decided to go public as Lady Sigyn, she knew her parents would.

“Absolutely,” Loki said, nodding. “In fact, I could call Joanne now for you to speak with her, if you’d like?”

Karen pursed her lips together. “I can contact Mrs Lewis on my own, thank you,” she said shortly. She looked over at Darcy. “You really lost your memories?”

Darcy nodded. It wasn’t technically  _ untrue _ , it just wasn’t the whole truth. “I really did. For a long time. I thought I was as human as you are.”

Karen’s expression cleared, just a little bit. “What happened?” she asked, genuinely curious now.

“Someone tried to kill me,” Darcy told her. 

“What?” Karen exclaimed. “Why?”

Darcy sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. She had known it was only a matter of time before their carefully concocted half-true backstory would come into play. She just really wished it wasn’t her ex-girlfriend who was digging into the story.

“My oldest sister, the Eldest norn,” Darcy said, lowering her hand. “She went a little crazy. You have to realize, she was very, very old. The oldest living thing in the universe. She had watched higher life forms evolve all over the universe. She was witness to every conflict, every war, every famine, natural disaster, and extinction event. All of that pain and death… she wanted it to end. But she went about it the wrong way. I found out what she was up to, and she didn’t take kindly to me meddling in her plans.”

Darcy shrugged and sighed again. “So she tried to have me killed. I survived, obviously, but my other sisters wanted to know why I’d been targeted. They grew suspicious of Skuld, the Eldest, and hid me on Midgard to keep me safe. The Darcy Lewis identity was concocted to keep me safe until I was fully recovered.”

“Do you mind if I just…” Karen leaned down to dig in her bag she’d placed on the floor and came up with a pen and a small notepad. She began scribbling furiously in a shorthand Darcy recognized as the one Karen had come up with herself.

Darcy exchanged a look with Loki. He was sly, satisfied that Karen had taken the bait. Darcy glanced away quickly. Her cell phone vibrated on her desk a half second before ETTA began speaking overhead. “Lady Sigyn, Mr Stark is calling to speak with you and Prince Loki.”

Darcy resisted the urge to sigh in relief and picked up her phone. “I’m sorry, Karen, can we just take this? It might be urgent.”

“Mr Stark says it  _ is _ urgent, Lady Sigyn,” ETTA added.

“Thank you, ETTA,” Darcy said, and gave Karen an apologetic smile.

“I’ll just wait outside,” Karen said, and got to her feet, still writing in her notebook. As soon as the door closed behind her, Darcy answered the phone and put it on speaker.

“Tony, it’s Darcy, how can we help?”

_ “Why do you assume I need help?” _ Tony replied, sounding annoyed.

“Because if it was a social call, it would be Pepper calling,” Darcy answered dryly.

_ “Yeah, okay, fine,” _ Tony admitted.  _ “Quick question. That thing you guys can do that you understand everyone’s native language. What do you call it? Alltalk?” _

“Allspeak,” Loki corrected, rubbing his eyes. “What of it?”

_ “It works on languages not from earth, right?” _

Darcy frowned. “What is going on, Tony?”

_ “Yeah, so I’m at NATO and about six hours ago they started receiving communications over several military radio channels from an unknown source, and now they’re picking up two possible spaceships orbiting the moon.” _

It took Darcy a minute to process the run on sentence. “NATO’s been contacted by aliens orbiting the moon?” she echoed.

_ “Yeah,” _ Tony replied succinctly.  _ “I’ve already got a helicopter enroute to pick you up.” _

“Okay,” Darcy said, getting to her feet. “Have you called any of the others?”

_ “Just Sam and Steve. Romanoff's off the grid again and Barton’s still on paternity leave.” _

“Right,” Darcy said. “Okay. We’ll be ready as soon as the helicopter arrives.”

_ “Cool. Oh, by the way, the chopper is a hundred percent automated so don’t be alarmed, you know, if there’s no pilot.” _

Darcy fished ETTA’s earpiece out of her pocket and inserted it back into place. “Okay, fine, whatever. We’ll be there.”

_ “Awesome. Thanks. Bye!” _

Loki gave Darcy a skeptical look. “Alien spaceships orbiting the moon?” he asked. “That is...unusual.” 

“You’re so talented at understatement, babe.” Darcy said, slipping her phone in the pocket she’d just dug her earpiece out of. “ETTA, please have Sif and Darius meet us in the courtyard and tell Brenna we will not be joining the children for dinner.”

“ETTA, please also have Hela meet us in the courtyard,” Loki added.

“Right away, Lady Sigyn, Prince Loki,” ETTA replied, her voice no-nonsense.

“So what’s the over-under on random alien spaceships being here to conquer the planet?” Darcy asked as Loki helped her shrug into her suit coat.

“With just two ships? I would not take those odds,” Loki said. “And I would know.”

Darcy stuck her tongue out at her husband and crossed over to the door. Karen looked up from where she had taken a seat. “Hey, sorry about this but something came up and we really have to go. I wouldn’t bail on you but it’s important.”

Karen’s expression was guarded. “Okay. When can I come back for a follow up interview?”

“You have an opening on Friday at 3:15pm,” ETTA spoke in Darcy’s ear.

“Quarter past 3 on Friday,” Darcy said confidently. She offered her hand to shake. “I’m sorry that I upset you. It was never my intention.”

Karen nodded, her eyes never leaving Darcy’s face. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll see you Friday.” She tucked a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear and strode out of the waiting room, leaving Darcy staring forlornly after her.

“ _ Faen, _ ” she muttered under her breath.

Loki paused at her side and touched her arm. “You know it is necessary,  _ elskede _ ,” he told her quietly.

“I know,” Darcy said louder, squaring her shoulders. “Okay. Let’s go see what the aliens want.”

XxxXxxX

Steve, Sam, and Tony were waiting for them on the helipad at the undisclosed NATO location, along with a very harried-looking black man in an American military uniform. Loki helped Darcy out of the helicopter as she was still wearing her heels, while Darius, Sif, and Hela disembarked with more ease.

“Why’d you bring the kid?” Tony demanded, his suspicious brown eyes resting on Hela.

“Because she can learn from this situation,” Loki replied neutrally.

Darcy glanced back at Hela, who was glaring narrow-eyed at Tony. In the time she had been at the embassy, she had made zero effort to improve the Avengers’ opinion of her, instead choosing to spend most of her free time with her half-brothers and adopted sisters, who all adored her.

Steve shouldered past Tony with an exasperated expression. “Thanks for coming short notice,” he said, leaning down to embrace Darcy.

“No problem,” Darcy replied, hugging him back. “But I swear you guys are the reason for all my gray hairs.”

“You have no gray hair,” Steve told her, stepping back. “Who’s your new friend?” he asked, glancing at Darius.

“Darius Miller,” Darcy introduced. “He’s Loki’s new PA.”

“Steve Rogers,” Steve introduced, holding out his hand.

Darius managed a sort of squeaky grunt, and put his hand in Steve’s. Darius wasn’t necessarily short, but he was completely dwarfed by Steve, who was built like a brick wall. Steve smiled faintly and released him.

“This is General MacNeill,” Steve introduced. “He’s been placed in charge of our little situation.”

MacNeill smiled tightly without humor. “I’m glad you can take this incident lightly, Captain,” he said dryly. “Unfortunately we don’t have your optimism. Seeing as our last large-scale encounter with an alien race resulted in wide-scale destruction, we are exercising a fair amount of caution.”

Darcy felt Loki flinch at her side but she did not react. Neither did Sif, who was standing on Loki’s other side. Darcy gestured. “Shall we?”

The general nodded sharply and turned on his heel to lead them toward the building. Darcy glanced backward and saw Sif carefully noting the security measures, guards, and a hundred other things that Darcy wouldn’t have thought to look for.

The room they were taken to was several stories underground, dimly lit by the vast number of screens displaying various data. On the largest screen, Darcy could see a close-up image of the two ships. They were clearly from two separate species, with two very distinct styles of technology. She glanced up at Loki.

“Recognize either of them?” she asked in a low voice.

“That one,” Loki replied, pointing to the ship on the left. “That ship is Vyrkyriyr, from Vyxkyryn. The other I don’t know.”

“So you’ve had contact with these...Verkyrior?” General MacNeill asked, stumbling over the unfamiliar name.

“Not personally, but my father has,” Loki replied, not bothering to correct his pronunciation. “They requested to open trading with the Nine Realms, but the Alfather refused.”

“Why?” Tony demanded.

“Because they preyed on and ate the other sapient species native to their planet, the Xivi,” Loki explained. “A few centuries after the Vyrkyriyr applied for trading rights, the Xivi sent a delegate to Asgard requesting aid. The Alfather approved use of the Bifrost to move the entire species to a habitable planet in a different solar system.”

“I can’t imagine that made these fellas happy,” Tony said, waving at the screen. “Not that I’m condoning cannibalism, which, ew.”

“Not cannibalism,” Darcy said, peering at the unidentified spacecraft. “Different species. Can we hear the transmissions?”

General MacNeill, who did not look happy at the prospect of being confronted by an overtly predatory alien species, startled and then stepped toward a workstation. “Play both transmissions,” he instructed the uniformed woman sitting there.

The woman typed a few keys, and the first transmission started playing. “Greetings, children of Green Planet,” spoke a melodious voice. “We are the Moon Seekers. Our presence here is no cause for alarm. We wish open communion with your people. Do not fear us, we are not warriors. Let us join together in the pursuit of peace.”

“Moon Seekers,” Darcy echoed, being sure to use the word from the transmission. “That’s what the Fere’aei call themselves, I think.”

“You think?” General MacNeil asked, raising his eyebrows. “Who are these Ferry-aye and what do they want with earth?”

“Fere’aei,” Darcy corrected absently, tapping her finger on her lips. “I think I visited their planet, like, a million years ago.”

“Literally or figuratively?” Steve asked with a straight face.

Sam chuckled, then caught sight of Steve’s expression. “Wait, really? A million years ago?”

Darcy nodded. “Maybe just over a million years. give or take a few thousand. They definitely hadn’t evolved far enough for space travel.”

Hela, who had been trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible, sighed heavily and then raised her hand like a schoolchild. Loki blinked a few times at the teenager, no doubt trying to figure out where she had learned the gesture, as it was not used on Asgard.

“Yes, Hela?” he said after a moment.

“That vessel is Fere’aei,” she said in a soft voice. “But not from their native planet. That vessel is from their colony on Akass’i, and so is the Vyrkyriyr ship.”

“How would you know that?” Tony demanded suspiciously, giving the teenager a dark look.

Hela sighed again. “I lived on Akass’i for thirty-seven solar cycles. There are four major colonies on that planet, but the Fere’aei and the Vyrkyriyr have the largest ones. They have been competing for space and resources for the last three hundred or so years.”

For a moment everyone stared at Hela, who glared back at all of them and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Thank you, Hela,” Loki said, and gestured at the woman. “Please play the second transmission.”

The voice that emanated from the speakers could not have possible come from a mouth and throat anything similar to a human’s. It was full of clicks, grunts, and glottal stops, punctuated rarely by actual consonants and vowels.

“Earth-dwellers. We are the Ones Who Run. We seek mediation from the one called the norn. answer promptly.”

Darcy’s head snapped around so she could stare at Loki, her eyes wide. “Mediation?” she asked. “They want mediation?”

“Maybe you wanna translate for us?” Tony prompted.

Darcy gestured vaguely. “The first one was a general introduction from the Fere’aei. Their version of ‘We come in peace.’ The second transmission is from the Vyrkyriyr. They say they are here for mediation.”

“Mediation from who? Humans?” General MacNeill demanded.

“No,” Darcy said, shaking her head. “From me.”

XxxXxxX

It was one thing to show up to a small, underdeveloped planet and ask for mediation from the norn living on said planet, and an entirely different thing to  _ actually _ get mediation. Using Loki as a translator, the Secretary General and the Military Committee of NATO spent a week talking to both alien parties. Darcy appeared before the NATO Military Committee three times over that week, trying to convince them why she should be allowed to handle negotiations between the alien parties by herself (IF they were even allowed to remain). A hundred different scenarios were suggested, and a hundred were turned down.

Eventually what was decided was this:

Under no circumstances was the general public to know about the alien visitors. Knowledge of the ships’ presence was confined solely to NATO. Resolution of the incident would likewise be contained to NATO. Heads of governments of NATO countries were informed, but none of them were permitted to actually be present.

Stark Industries provided a retrofitted Mobile Oceanic Research Station located 90 miles off the coast of California. The MORS was then surrounded by ships provided from several NATO countries, and staffed exclusively by NATO personnel. The MORS itself contained a barracks, a laboratory, a mess hall, and recreation center, all of which was removed in favor of an enlarged landing pad, a communications center, and the actual conference center where the mediation would be held.

General MacNeill was decidedly not happy upon being told that no weapons would be allowed anywhere on the MORS during the mediation, as per the ancient rule of the norns. The Secretary General of NATO nearly scrapped the whole plan when he heard that, but Loki and Sif informed him of the consequences should that particular rule be violated, and he reluctantly agreed, but only after being assured that Loki, Sif, Captain Rogers, and several of Loki’s Asgardian security team would be present as Darcy’s honor guard.

Only a single representative from each alien ship would be permitted onto the MORS at a time, and only for ten hours per day. They would go through a decontamination process upon arrival each and every time, and would remain in a restricted part of the MORS. They would have no contact with anyone except Darcy, her honor guard, and the NATO representatives.

The visitors would have precisely ten days, at the end of which they would leave, regardless of whether they had reached a resolution or not.

Neither the Fere’aei nor the Vyrkyriyr were especially pleased with the terms, and only agreed after Darcy herself spoke to them, assuring them that the terms had her blessing. So, at the end of a very busy and stressful week, Darcy found herself standing on the edge of a landing pad on a large platform in the middle of the Pacific ocean with Loki on her right, and Steve on her left. They were all dressed to the nines in their respective uniforms: Steve as Captain America, Loki in his armor, and Darcy in a simple white shift and a long purple tunic. 

The salty ocean wind tugged loose strands of her hair from the intricate braids Brenna had plaited that morning, something Darcy was sincerely grateful for now, because it simply wouldn’t do for her to appear as a mediator with wind-swept hair. 

Behind them stood Sif and the Asgardian guards, and behind them were the NATO personnel. And at the very back stood Angela and Darius, the former of whom had begged to be there, and the latter had begged to not. Alas, Darius’ pleas were ignored, and he had been told firmly that yes, this was in his job description, and yes, this did count for danger pay.

Darcy shielded her eyes with her hand, craning her neck back to scan the blue sky overhead.

“There,” Steve said, pointing out a small black speck with a contrail.

“Are you sure?” Darcy asked. “Could be an airplane.”

“It’s a bird, it’s a plane,” Tony said in a sing-song behind Steve, because of course he was going to be there. He was an Avenger, dammit.

“That is the Fere’aei landing pod,” Loki confirmed. He had no need to shade his eyes as he scanned the cloudless sky. His pupils contracted far too narrow to be human, down to tiny points of black in pale green. “The Vyrkyriyr is just behind them.”

“About time,” Tony grumbled. “Let’s get this party started. Can you smell how much salt is in this breeze? It’s not good for my complexion. Salt ages you, you know.”

“I dunno, saltwater did a pretty good job of keeping me young,” Steve replied with a straight face. 

Darcy snorted indelicately and rubbed her nose. “In any case, it’s playing havoc with my sinuses,” she complained. “I need to go inside.”

“ _ Mortals _ ,” Loki said in an aggrieved voice.

“ _ Excuse _ me?” Darcy asked, pretending indignance. “Watch who you’re calling the ‘M’ word, there,  _ angan _ .”

Loki gave her an exasperated but fond look and went back to staring at the approaching spacecraft.

“So...have they given you any idea on what they need mediation  _ about _ ?”

“I assume it’s like Hela said,” Darcy replied. “Shrinking resources and remaining habitable land on Akass’i.”

“And they had to come all the way to earth to have you mediate that?” Tony asked skeptically. “Why bother? Couldn’t they have just duked it out on their own planet and left us alone?”

“ _ Clearly _ they are attempting a non-violent solution,” Loki murmured. “However, we have no idea the conditions on Akass’i. It’s possible this is their solution after decades of war. We just don’t know.”

“Well, hopefully they don’t get any smart ideas of bringing their baggage here,” Tony said. “Because the last thing we need is a bunch of aliens invading our planet searching for some ancient, powerful artifact.”

Darcy glanced at her husband, but he didn’t visibly react. 

“Real smooth, Tony,”Steve said sarcastically from Darcy’s other side.

“I’m just  _ saying _ ,” Tony protested.

“Silence,” Loki ordered.

The landing pods were close now, close enough to hear their engines, to make out the difference in construction styles. They were each about the size of a schoolbus, and would both easily fit on the landing pad. Darcy folded her hands in front of her and practiced her serene expression as the pods landed. Behind them she could hear the murmurs of the NATO soldiers, and she could sense the tension in the air. 

The Vyrkyriyr pod opened first, and for a moment there was dead silence, then the alien appeared in the doorway. It was impossible to determine the alien’s gender at a casual glance as the species had five genders, and none of them had external secondary gender characteristics.

The alien was easily over six and a half feet tall, with long, thin gangly limbs covered in slick, grayish chitin. Its torso was covered in intricate plate armor that appeared to be made of the same material, and in a way, it was. The Vyrkyriyr had broad, rounded shoulders, a slender neck, and a round head with a flat face that consisted of two large, faceted eyes, a triangular, beaky nose, and a lipless mouth mostly shielded by a pair of insect-like mouthpieces that twitched and quivered constantly.

Its armor was painted bright and clashing colors in an intricate pattern which, according to Hela, denoted its name, rank, status, and city of origin. As far as Darcy could tell, this particular Vyrkyriyr was a high-ranking political figure. Apart from that, she couldn’t make anything else out.

“Ugly son of a bitch, isn’t he?” Tony muttered.

“That is not a male,” Loki said quietly. “I would advise against referring to xer as such.”

“That’s a female?” Tony asked in disbelief.

“No,” Loki corrected. “Xe is not a male.”

“I don’t get it,” Tony said plaintively.

“Don’t worry about it, xe doesn’t understand English,” Darcy said quickly.

The Vyrkyriyr remained where xe was at the entrance to xer landing pod, xer head rotating side to side as it scanned the MORS. When the Fere’aei pod opened like a flower blossoming, xe began to walk toward the other pod.

The Fere’aei representative was female, Darcy noted, which meant she was either very young, or past middle age. She stood a hair under six feet tall, with dark purple-black skin that looked velvety soft. Her body was stocky and muscular, and her sheer, layered clothing was specifically designed to show it off. Her wide-set eyes were dark gray, with large pupils and long lashes. Her mouth and nose were rather snout-like, and a pair of glossy black horns curved up to razor-sharp points above her folded, triangular ears. Gold freckles dusted her arms, neck and face, and two white canines protruded from her upper lip.

The Fere’aei greeted the Vyrkyriyr with a curt nod and a gesture with gold-tipped fingers. The Vyrkyriyr returned the gesture with long, multi jointed digits and a series of clicks from xer mouthpieces. Then the two of them approached Darcy, side by side. They stopped a few paces away, and Darcy drew herself up to her full height, feeling rather dwarfed by everyone around her (except Tony). 

“I am Lady Sigyn of the Sisterhood of the Norns, Mother of the Ways and Host of Ragnarok,” Darcy announced in a clear voice.

The Fere’aie tilted her head back and to the right, a submissive gesture, if Darcy remembered correctly. “I am the One Born Under the Last Winter Moon, Witness-Speaker for the Moon Seekers of Akass’i,” she introduced.

“I am Tall of Hive Seven of the Ones Who Run from Akass’i,” the Vyrkyriyr said curtly.

Behind Darcy, she could hear Sif speaking quietly into a radio that all the humans present could hear, translating the words of the visitors.

“Tall? Really?” Tony muttered. “It’s name is ‘ _ Tall _ ’?”

Darcy saw Steve move out of the corner of her eye, and then Tony grunted painfully.

“On behalf of the human race, welcome to earth,” Steve announced as if nothing had happened. This time, Loki translated. “We are happy to host both of you while you seek mediation from our friend, Lady Sigyn.”

The One Born Under The Last Winter Moon repeated the submissive gesture towards Steve. “We appreciate the hospitality of the children of Green Planet. We understand you could have refused our request and we are grateful.”

“Agreed,” clicked Tall, who seemed to be a Vyrkyriyr of few words.

Darcy spread her hands. “I am honored that you chose me to be your mediator, and I am happy to be of service to both your peoples. Please forgive us a few formalities, and we will get our mediation underway.”

“Yes,” said The One Born Under The Last Winter Moon. “I understand the children of Green Planet are worried about foreign microorganisms?”

“Humans have rather sensitive immune systems,” Darcy explained. “We do not want to introduce a hostile bacteria to our ecosystem.”

“Understandable,” said Tall, though Xer tone sounded impatient. “Show us the way.”

“Please follow the captain of my honor guard, the Lady Sif of Asgard,” Darcy said, gesturing to Sif, who stepped forward. Once the alien dignitaries were enroute to decontamination with Sif and a squad of NATO soldiers, Darcy let herself relax.

“They… didn’t look like I expected,” Steve admitted.

“What were you expecting, Captain?” Loki asked dryly.

“Well, it’s not like  _ you _ look all that different from us,” Steve said defensively.

“In  _ this _ form,” Loki said darkly.

“Do we have to call her The One Born Under The Last Winter Moon, like,  _ every _ time, or does she have a nickname or something?” Tony asked. “Because that’s kind of a mouthful. Like, how are you supposed to get her attention from across the room? What if you’re in a hurry? Can we just call her Moon or something?”

“Shortening her name without her approval would be the equivalent of denying the fact she’s a person,” Darcy explained. “And it’s not something you can ask. If she offers a short name, that’s fine, but you don’t ask up front.”

“Okay, right. Don’t insult the alien dignitaries, got it,” Tony said, shaking his head. “Glad I’m not the one who has to talk to them.”

“Gee, thanks,” Darcy said sarcastically.


	4. This Ain't a Scene, It's an Arms Race

Darius could count on one hand the number of hangovers he’d had in his life. He was not generally one to over-indulge in anything, and especially not alcohol. Being drunk in public could be a death sentence for people like him, even in New York City.

This particular hangover ranked pretty high among the worst hangovers he’d ever had. Maybe even among the worst hangovers in the world.

The problem was, he was pretty sure he hadn’t been drinking.

The last thing he remembered was trying to hide behind Lady Sif in the back of the conference room, desperately hoping that Lady Sigyn or Prince Loki wouldn’t need anything from him during the session. It was one thing to work for aliens that looked just like humans, but he was pretty sure the huge, gray, insectoid alien could  _ eat _ him. He was  _ not _ going to get any closer.

After that his memory ended. He woke up here, in this dark, cold space with a splitting headache and a mouth coated with foul-tasting fuzz.

He reached up to feel along his skull to see if there was an injury, a source for the pain, but he didn’t find any blood or swelling. He cautiously opened his eyes. The room he was in was dark, nearly pitch black. He was lying on a hard, flat surface. There was a quiet flow of air in the room but it tasted recycled, like in an airplane after the cabin was pressurized.

He came to the realization that he might have been kidnapped.

His reaction surprised even him.

“I suppose this is why I was getting danger pay,” he said out loud.

“Yeah, pretty much,” replied Lady Sigyn from somewhere to his left.

Darius sat up, reaching out blindly with one hand. “Lady Sigyn?” he called, feeling a strange sort of relief at the sound of her voice. “What happened? Where are we?”

“I don’t know,” she said, and Darius’ heart sank again. “I remember being in the conference center, and then I woke up here.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Darius said, rubbing his eyes. “You have a headache?”

“The worst,” Lady Sigyn said. “This room, or cell, or whatever; it’s tall enough to stand up in. Five steps wide and five steps long. And the air is canned.”

“I smelled that,” Darius agreed. “Maybe we’re on an airplane?”

“Or underground,” Lady Sigyn suggested. “There’s some kind of vibration but it could be a generator, not an engine.”

They fell into silence for a few seconds. “So what do we do now?” Darius asked. He would probably be more panicked if he was alone, but he’d heard about the things that Lady Sigyn had done, so he was fairly confident in her ability to keep him safe.

“We wait. Gather information. Make a plan. It’s only a matter of time before Loki and the rest of the Avengers come after us.”

“Well, that’s a nice thought,” Darius said, smiling thinly. “Rescued by the Avengers.”

“It’s a perk,” Lady Sigyn agreed. “Could use something to drink.”

“Me, too.”

A hand touched his arm. Darius tried not to flinch but he did anyway. The hand didn’t go away. He remained still as Lady Sigyn patted him down, searching for injuries, maybe, or…

“That’s weird,” Lady Sigyn said, and pulled Darius’ phone out of his pocket. The screen lit up, revealing her pale face close to his. “They didn’t take your phone.”

“What about yours?” Darius asked, taking the phone from her and unlocking it. “Shit. No service.”

“I wasn’t carrying mine,” Lady Sigyn replied, sounding disappointed. “Didn’t think I needed it.”

“Well, this one’s not much good without service,” Darius complained.

“Turn on the bluetooth,” Lady Sigyn instructed.

“What? Why?”

“See if it’ll connect to anything. Might tell us where we are.”

Darius obeyed, but didn’t find any compatible devices.

“Shit,” Lady Sigyn echoed. “I really thought that might work.”

“It was a good idea,” Darius offered.

Lady Sigyn shook her head. “I should have had mine with me. Loki upgraded it years ago. It could make a call literally anywhere in the universe.”

“That’s neat. Saves on international calling.”

“Tell me about it.” Lady Sigyn sighed. She reached up to brush her long hair back from her face and Darius saw the cuff locked around her wrist.

“What’s that?” he demanded, reaching out and tapping the manacle.

“Sigma-wave blocker.”

“A what?”

“Blocks sigma brain waves. It’s the part of the brain that controls metaphysical powers. Basically it blocks my magic.”

“Oh,” Darius said, his stomach sinking a little lower. “That’s not good, is it?”

“Nope.” Lady Sigyn leaned her head back against the wall. “You should turn your phone off. Save the battery. Might need it later.”

Darius reluctantly did as she asked, plunging them back into darkness. “Um, Lady Sigyn?”

“Yeah?”

“Uh, have you ever… Have you ever been kidnapped before?”

She laughed. “Yeah. A few times.”

“What happened?”

“I rescued myself, mostly. Loki helped a couple of times. Usually worked out in the end.”

Darius swallowed. “Do you think we’ll get out of this one?” he asked hopefully.

“Yeah, probably. I mean, if whoever took us knows anything, they’ll know that killing a norn is like, the  _ dumbest _ thing you can possibly do.”

Darius swallowed again. “I’m not exactly a norn,” he pointed out.

“True, but pissing off a norn is the  _ second _ dumbest thing you could possibly do, and I will be  _ very _ pissed if I have to look for a new personal assistant.”

XxxXxxX

Darius must have fallen asleep at some point because he startled awake to Lady Sigyn gently shaking his shoulder. He flinched as he came awake, recoiling away from her.

“Hey, you’re okay. It’s just me,” she said soothingly. “They brought us some water.”

“Did you see them?” Darius asked groggily.

“No. It came in through a slot in the door.” 

A hard-sided canteen was placed in his hand. He carefully felt for a nozzle, found it already open, and guzzled several gulps of water before remembering himself.

“Did you get enough?”

“Yeah. Go ahead and finish it off.”

“Should we save any of it?” Darius asked, pausing in the act of lifting the canteen again.

“No. They clearly don’t want us to die of thirst, so they’ll give us more later. Whatever drug they used dehydrated us, so you need to replenish.”

Darius drained the rest of the water, only belatedly wondering what he would do if he needed to pee later on. “How long do you think we’ve been in here?” 

“I don’t know. I’m cut off from my connection to…. Well, everything. I can’t feel the rotation of the earth anymore.”

Darius could hear how uncomfortable she was in her voice. He imagined that if he had a bunch of superpowers and they were suddenly gone, he’d feel pretty damn uncomfortable, too.

“Long enough that someone’s missing us?” he asked hopefully.

Lady Sigyn laughed softly. “Believe me, Loki missed us the minute they slapped this blocker on me.” There was a moment of silence, then, “He’d better not do anything stupid.”

“Prince Loki does stupid things?” Darius asked skeptically.

“If it concerns me being in danger, then yes. All the damn time. He once wiped out an entire Soviet base  _ by himself _ because they  _ threatened _ me.”

Darius blinked a couple of times. It was easy to forget, due to how young they both looked, that Prince Loki and Lady Sigyn were hundreds, if not thousands, of years old. “And that was stupid?” Darius hazarded, trying to figure out why taking out an enemy base was a bad thing.

“Yeah, he could have been seriously injured,” Lady Sigyn replied, sounding annoyed. “He was on starvation rations at the time and he’d been badly burned and  _ shot _ a couple of days before. He should have waited for back-up.”

Darius mulled over all of that for a few minutes. “Why was he in Russia?” he asked at length.

Lady Sigyn sighed. “Long story. We got caught up in some spy shenanigans after World War II. Did a few favors.”

Darius laughed in spite of himself. “‘Spy shenanigans’?” He echoed.

“You ever hear about the SSR?”

“No. What’s that?”

“The Special Science Reserve. Precursor to SHIELD. Captain America worked for them during the war.”

“Oh, right,” Darius nodded to himself.

“Yeah, well, we may or may not have accidentally teleported into their Los Angeles headquarters. They had a few questions. It was easier to do a couple of favors and keep things hush-hush than to announce our presence to the planet at large.”

“Not ready for that?” Darius asked.

“Not remotely.”

“Then New York happened,” Darius pointed out.

“Yeah, but Thor had crash-landed on earth the year prior due to some family drama, so SHIELD already knew about Asgard, aliens, and the universe in general.”

Darius frowned. “What kind of family drama?” he asked. He knew that Prince Loki and Lady Sigyn didn’t talk a lot about personal issues, so he was surprised at how much she was sharing. He wondered if he should be concerned about her health. Maybe the drug affected her differently than him.

He heard her snort and then sigh. “Okay, so Asgard fought this huge war with another planet, Jotunheim, like, a thousand years ago. Asgard won, barely, and then after there was a  _ very _ uneasy truce between them. Well, a few years ago, the Allfather, Odin, decided to retire as king of Asgard and was going to appoint Thor as king. On the literal day of Thor’s coronation, a few Jotnar broke into the weapons vault and tried to steal back some artifacts that Odin took from Jotunheim.”

“What happened?” Darius asked when she fell silent.

“Thor was pissed, obviously, and decided to sneak over to Jotunheim with Loki and his friends to confront the king of the Jotnar, which didn’t end well. Odin decided to teach Thor a lesson and banished him to earth until he learned the benefits of humility. Which is when he met Jane, coincidentally.” Lady Sigyn laughed.

“Why is that funny?” 

“Because she ran over him with her van. Twice. And somehow still fell head over heels for him.” She laughed again. “Now look at her. About to become queen of Asgard.”

Darius shifted uncomfortably, his butt going numb from the hard floor. “What’s Asgard like?” he asked, since Lady Sigyn was in the sharing mood.

“Tall,” Lady Sigyn said dryly. “Everyone there is super tall. The first time I went into the city, I almost got trampled.”

Well, that didn’t bode well for Darius if he ever made it there. He wasn’t much taller than Lady Sigyn.

“Everything is big,” Lady Sigyn went on. “The ceilings in the palace are seventy feet high. There are towers so tall a human couldn’t stand on top of them without an oxygen tank. Everything is gold and glass and shiny. The mountains make Mount Everest look like a bunny slope. And the stars look so close you can reach out and touch them.”

“It sounds incredible,” Darius said wistfully.

“It is,” Lady Sigyn replied softly. “But I like earth better.”

“Why?” Darius asked in disbelief. If she had a choice of all the planets in the galaxy, why would she bother with earth?

“There’s no other species in the universe quite like humans,” Lady Sigyn explained. “They’re fascinating to study. And live with.”

“We haven’t even figured out interplanetary travel yet,” Darius protested.

“But you already have an alliance with one of the strongest and wealthiest planets in the galaxy,” Lady Sigyn pointed out. “You defeated an alien invasion from an army that had  _ devastated _ other planets. Did you know that Asgard has not had a major technological advance in  _ seven centuries _ ? Humans went from inventing the computer to space travel in  _ ninety years _ . The rate of your technological development is completely unprecedented.”

He heard Lady Sigyn shift around, likely trying in vain to get comfortable.

“And besides that, humans are one of the most adaptable species in the universe. You have no idea how hard it would be for other species to colonize an earth-like planet, do you? The variety of climates would make it virtually impossible for most species to fully inhabit this planet. You guys live in fucking  _ Australia _ . Literally no other species I have ever heard of would survive a week in Australia.”

“Really?” Darius asked. “What’s so bad about Australia?”

“Uh, how about hostile wildlife, average summer temperature, the  _ length _ of the summer season, lack of fresh water sources, hostile wildlife, lack of edible vegetation, and did I mention  _ hostile wildlife _ ?”

“Okay, that’s fair,” Darius admitted.

“Take it from someone who's been here for the last thousand years. Humans are badass.”

Darius didn’t have it in him to disagree.

A loud  _ clang _ from outside the cell made him jump, his anxiety suddenly surging into overdrive. He realized Lady Sigyn’s purpose in being so chatty; she was trying to keep him calm. And it had worked. Until now.

“What was that?” he demanded.

“It sounded like an engine switching from hyper-drive to sub-light,” Lady Sigyn said dubiously. “And I really hope I’m wrong, because that would mean we’re on--”

“A spaceship,” Darius finished. “Holy  _ shit _ . We’re in  _ space. _ Oh, my god, we’re in  _ space _ .” He couldn’t seem to catch his breath even though he snatched at it desperately. He felt cold, hot, then cold again. The cell and the darkness shrank in on him, and he couldn’t move, couldn’t think…

“Darius, listen to me,” Lady Sigyn said in a calm voice. “You’re having a panic attack. I need you to listen to me, okay? You need to slow your breathing. I’m going to touch your arm.”

She gripped his upper arm with a firm hand. “Breathe slowly,” she ordered. “Deep inhale, slow exhale. Do it with me. Inhale. Now exhale. Good. Let’s do it again. Inhale, and exhale.”

He obeyed her commands and felt himself calming down until he could breathe properly again. “What are we supposed to do now?” He asked, drawing his knees to his chest and hugging them. “How are we supposed to get back?”

“Well, obviously we need to take over the ship and fly it back to earth,” Lady Sigyn said in a disturbingly matter-of-fact tone. “The question is how big a crew this ship has and what kind of weapons they have.”

“Oh, my god, it’s the Vyrkyriyr,” Darius blurted. “They must have kidnapped us. Don’t they  _ eat _ people?”

“That depends,” Lady Sigyn said thoughtfully.

“On  _ what _ ?”

“On whether they believe the prey species is as intelligent or more intelligent than they are. Honestly, I doubt the Vyrkyriyr would be interested in eating humans. And definitely not a norn.”

“Okay, fine, they’re not going to eat us,” Darius said, unable to keep the snark out of his voice. “It doesn’t change the fact we have to fight off seven-feet-tall alien insects!”

“Yeah, that might be a bit difficult,” Lady Sigyn admitted.

The cell was suddenly filled with soft, white light. After so long in pitch-darkness, it was overwhelming. Darius pressed his hands over his eyes to protect them from the onslaught. It was almost enough to distract him from the sudden change in gravity. His stomach nearly flipped over at the sensation of becoming significantly lighter than he was used to.

There was a soft hiss from somewhere on his right, and the air in the cell stirred.

A voice spoke in a language Darius didn’t understand. He knew that voice. He’d spent the last few days listening to it. He carefully pulled his hands away from his eyes and squinted up at their captor. It wasn’t at all who he expected.

XxxXxxX

“Hello, Lady Sigyn,” said The One Born Under The Last Winter Moon. “I trust your journey was uneventful.”

“Uneventful, yes. Comfortable, no,” Darcy said dryly. “Can I ask  _ why _ we’ve made this journey?”

“All things will be revealed in time,” replied the Fere’aei. “Please, join me in perambulation.”

Darcy didn’t immediately get to her feet. “And what about my assistant?” she asked, gesturing towards Darius. The poor young man looked like he was ready to faint, his face shiny with sweat despite the chilly temperature. “What happens to him while we ‘perambulate’?”

“He will remain here safely,” promised the Fere’aei. “We mean neither of you any harm.”

“I might have believed you before you drugged and kidnapped us,” Darcy said sarcastically. She finally did get to her feet, muscles sore and screaming. She straightened her dress and tried to smooth her disheveled hair, with debatable success. “Wait here,” she told Darius. “You should be okay while I’m gone.”

“Okay,” Darius said unevenly, his brown eyes huge.

“I’ll be right back,” Darcy told him firmly, then turned to follow the Fere’aei.

Outside the cell the ship was well-lit and a comfortable temperature. The colors were neutral, pleasant, and calming. There were no hard edges or corners. Everything was soft and inviting. Deceptively so. Darcy bounced up and down a couple of times, testing the new gravity.

“This way, please,” said the witness-speaker, gesturing for Darcy to follow her. Darcy did, but maintained a cautious distance.

“What do you want?” she demanded, not interested in pleasantries.

“We wish to come to an understanding that is most beneficial to our people, with the purpose of continuing our interests on Akass’i,” the Fere’aei replied, inclining her head to one side.

“Well, I was trying to do that before you kidnapped me,” Darcy said tartly. She was annoyed and, despite her facade, actually kind of scared. The cuff around her wrist cut off her access to Yggdrasil. She had no idea where she was. She couldn’t create a Way home. She couldn’t even contact Loki. She was, for all intents and purposes, helpless.

“We have no interest in negotiating with the Vyrkyriyr,” The One Born Under The Last Winter Moon said disdainfully. “They will never agree to a fair compromise.”

“Okay, but kidnapping the mediator is not going to help you much,” Darcy pointed out. “If you’re trying to get on my good side, this isn’t exactly working.”

“Oh, but we haven’t begun negotiations yet,” the Fere’aei said with a thin smile. They reached an airlock and she passed her hand over the lock. It dilated open with a faint hiss. “Please, after you, Lady Sigyn.”

Darcy gave her a narrow look and stepped through. She found herself on the bridge of the ship, a horseshoe shaped bank of controls under a transparent canopy. A planet hung in space outside the ship, unbelievably large, all blue and green and golden.

“Welcome to Akass’i, Lady Sigyn,” the witness-speaker said, joining Darcy on the bridge. The flight crew ignored both of them, going about their duties as normal.

“Why are we here?” Darcy asked, an uneasy feeling in her stomach. It wasn’t helped by the much lighter gravity on the ship.

“We are waiting for negotiations to begin,” replied her host. The alien gestured toward the planet. “Soon a warship from our homeworld will arrive. They will train their guns on the Vyrkyriyr settlements on the planet. Then we will rain down fire upon them..”

Darcy stared at the Fere’aei for a few seconds. “And what makes you think that will actually work?” she asked.

The Fere’aei smiled at her, revealing sharp teeth and long canines. “No one will dare attack us with you as a hostage.”

Darcy had to play that back in her head to make sure that she had heard that correctly. “Yeah, maybe you’re right, but you do realize you’ve just made enemies out of earth  _ and _ Asgard, don’t you?”

The Fere’aei gave her a condescending look. “I think it will be some time before the Green Planet is in a position to be a threat to us, and it has been generations since anyone has witnessed the wrath of Asgard. Their king is old and tired; he has no teeth.”

“Actually, their king is young and temperamental and happens to be the brother of my life-mate,” Darcy told her. “He will be more than happy to avenge this insult.”

The One Born Under The Last Winter Moon waved her hand, unconcerned by Darcy’s threat. “Fere’i is far from Asgard. Even long arms could not reach us.”

“What about the Vyrkyriyr?” Darcy asked. “Won’t this start a war between your planets?”

The Fere’aei turned to her with the shining eyes and the beatific expression of a true believer. “It is hoped so,” she said in a breathy voice. Darcy nodded and took a discrete step backwards. This was decidedly Not Good.

A crew member approached them, a male, judging by his lack of horns and the muscle bulges in his arms and chest. “Witness-speaker, we have word from the warship,” he reported. “They will arrive in eleven degrees.”

Darcy’s host inclined her head. “Thank you.”

Fere’aei measured time in the movement of their sun, so eleven degrees translated to about twenty-five minutes. Which didn’t give Darcy a whole lot of time. She did, however, have a few things to her advantage.

Firstly, she had four years of combat training under her belt that didn’t have anything to do with her norn powers. 

Secondly, earth had a significantly heavier gravity than Fere’i. Which meant that humans had denser bones and muscles than Fere’aei.

Thirdly, and most importantly, the Fere’aei didn’t view her as a threat.

Which meant she had exactly one chance to save the lives of the Vyrkyriyr on the planet before them and stop a war.

The One Born Under The Last Winter Moon was the only female on the bridge, which meant she was the most dangerous Fere’aei that Darcy had to deal with. Only female Fere’aei had horns and they knew how to use them.

Darcy slowly inched her way back towards the witness-speaker until she was within striking distance. The Fere’aei didn’t notice or didn’t care about her approach. When Darcy was close enough, she planted her feet, took a breath, and drove her elbow upwards with all her strength.

The elbow was among the strongest points of the human body, and despite her size, Darcy had a lot of muscle behind it. So her elbow crushed the Fere’aei’s windpipe with more ease than Darcy anticipated. The One Born Under The Last Winter Moon went down silently, choking and clawing at her damaged throat.

Darcy didn’t wait for anyone else to react. She bounded over to the nearest crewmember, who was just turning to see what had happened. He went down with a fractured breastbone and internal hemorrhaging. Darcy let instinct guide her and darted toward the right-hand side of the bank of controls.

The crewmember rose from his seat to intercept her, but Darcy knocked him off balance with a right hook to his orbital socket and pulled him from the chair, throwing him to the ground. It took her a few precious seconds to find the control she was looking for, seconds that nearly cost her.

Two male Fere’aei grabbed her arms, trying to pull her back, force her to the ground. She struggled one arm free, lunged toward the control panel, and slammed her fist down on the command to “VENT ATMOSPHERE.”

It flashed twice, asking for an emergency reversal, but the crew were too occupied with trying to contain Darcy. When cancellation didn’t come, the ship began venting procedures. Panels popped open all over the ship, allowing the vacuum of space to suck out all the oxygen.

The bridge became uninhabitable within seconds; cold and silent, littered with bodies and covered in a white rime of frost.


	5. Thnks fr th Mmrs

Scavenging through wreckage after a space battle was not the most honorable way to earn a living, Gamora mused, but it was not the worst thing she’d ever done to stay alive. In their defense, the crew of the  _ Milano II _ hadn’t arrived at Akass’i with the intent to sift through the destroyed battleships. They’d been following a distress beacon. When they reached the source, however, they found the skeletal remains of at least one Fere’aei war ship.

Gamora stood in the cockpit of the  _ Milano II _ , her elbow resting on the back of Quill’s seat. The Terran was currently piloting, as Rocket was occupied with tracking the beacon. Next to Rocket in the co-pilot chair, Groot dozed with his head on Rocket’s leg. The two were practically inseparable since their imprisonment by Yondu’s rogue Ravager crew. Groot became agitated if Rocket was out of his sight for more than a few minutes. Rocket pretended to be aggravated by the child’s clinginess, but Gamora knew that he really didn’t mind.

“I think I got it,” Rocket announced, looking over at Quill. “Six degrees off our nose, about a thousand kilometers.”

“That puts us in the middle of the debris field,” Quill complained. “There can’t be anything alive in there.”

“No, but whatever it’s attached to might be worth some money,” Rocket retorted.

Gamora tapped Quill lightly on the shoulder. “I’ll fetch Mantis. Maybe she can tell if there are any survivors,” she announced.

The remaining two members of their crew were enthralled in a game of  _ ach-tuun _ which Mantis was clearly losing on purpose. It was almost impossible to beat the empath at any game, but she rarely won.

“Mantis, we need you to scan the area and see if there are any survivors,” Gamora said without preamble.

Mantis looked up, her black eyes expressionless. Her antennae, however, perked up at the thought of being useful. Mantis desired nothing more than to be useful to her crewmates. “Yes, of course,” she said in her soft voice, and rose gracefully to her feet.

“But we are in the middle of a game!” Drax protested. “And I am winning!”

“I will return to finish it with you,” Mantis promised, and followed Gamora back to the cockpit. She stood as close to the viewport as she could, her antennae glowing and swiveling this way and that as she searched for any indication of life. 

“Yes, I sense something,” she announced after a minute or two, and pointed straight ahead. “There is someone alive and someone else. They are very weak. Close to death, I think.”

“Great,” Rocket said cheerfully. “We’ll only have to split the profits from the salvage with one other person, then.”

“Oh, dear,” Mantis said sadly, wringing her hands together.

“We’ll do everything we can to help them both,” Gamora promised the other woman. It wasn’t in her nature to be sympathetic, but Mantis’ abilities were strong, and if she was sad, her mood had a tendency to spread to the rest of the crew. The last thing Gamora wanted was a weepy Drax and a cranky Groot.

“I think I see something,” Quill said, and toggled a command for the viewport. A magnified image appeared over the view of the battlefield. It was a ship, visibly damaged but intact.

“That’s too small to be a war ship,” Rocket pointed out.

“And too big for a fighter,” Gamora added.

“It’s a personal transport ship,” Quill said. “They might have got caught in the middle of the battle.”

“What happened here?” Mantis asked, looking around at the debris.

“From what we heard, a Fere’aei war ship tried to pick a fight with the colonists and got their asses kicked,” Quill told her.

Groot blinked his large, brown eyes open and yawned. “I am Groot,” he said in his squeaky voice.

“Yeah, we’re here,” Rocket told him, baffling Gamora as always at his understanding of Groot’s incredibly complex language. “Hop down, buddy, I got work to do.”

“I am Groot,” Groot complained. He looked around and spotted Gamora close by. He held out his twiggy arms in the universal gesture of a child asking to be picked up.

Gamora reached over and lifted him with one hand, bringing him up to rest on her shoulder. Groot yawned and immediately dozed off again. He had been sleeping a great deal lately. Rocket thought he might be about to go through a growth spurt.

“That’s weird,” Quill muttered. “This transport ship is Fere’aei, too. It’s registered to the colony on Akass’i.”

“Why was it in the middle of the battle?” Gamora asked. “It doesn’t have any weapons.”

“We can ask the survivors,” Rocket said shortly. “Let’s focus on getting there in one piece.”

As they ventured deeper into the debris field, the tension inside the ship grew. Any one of the massive chunks of metal could puncture the hull of the  _ Milano II _ and vent their atmosphere to space, killing all of them within minutes.

Except perhaps Gamora. She knew from painful experience that her species could survive in vacuum for a short period of time. But she wished very much not to repeat that experience.

The transport vessel was, to the naked eye, undamaged, which increased their confusion and caution. Their ship’s sensors could now pick up the two life forms inside the ship, one strong, one very weak.

“Fere’aei are oxygen breathers, right?” Rocket asked as he started the protocols to dock with the transport. “Do we need suits?”

“They’re oxygen breathers,” Quill confirmed. “Life support looks like it’s working. And  _ that’s _ weird.”

“What is it?” Gamora demanded, his tone sending her to high alert.

“The two life forms. They’re  _ human, _ ” Quill told her, frowning at the readout screen.

“These sensors are calibrated to pick up life forms that primitive?” Rocket joked, not looking up at his own screen.

“Very funny, furball,” Quill snapped. “Yondu added human readings after he picked me up.”

“Terrans don’t have access to hyperdrive technology, do they?” Gamora asked quietly.

“They didn’t when I left earth,” Quill replied. “I mean, we made it to the moon, but that’s a big jump in two decades.”

“Could they have been stolen?” Mantis asked. She swiveled her head to stare at Quill with her large, unblinking black eyes. “Like you were?”

Quill frowned harder at that. “It’s possible,” he replied, but didn’t sound convinced. “I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

Docking procedures went off without a hitch. The  _ Milano II _ tested air quality and returned a positive result. After a quick but heated debate, they decided that Rocket and Mantis would stay behind with the ship (and Groot), and the rest would venture into the transport vessel.

The airlock they had docked with was a cargo loading hatch, and opened into a wide tunnel that led into the cargo hold. The ship was eerily silent, the only noise the steady whir of air flow from the life support.

Quill glanced down at the schematics he’d loaded onto his armpiece. “Looks like that strong life form is just a couple meters outside the lock to the cargo hold,” he said, gesturing at the stairs from the hold floor to an interior airlock.

“I’m not picking up any armed weapons,” Gamora added, moving her scanner in a half-circle in front of her.

They found the first body on the other side of the airlock; a Fere’aei crewmember sprawled on the deck with no apparent injuries. The next body was only a few feet away. There were still no obvious injuries.

“Well, they didn’t just drop dead,” Quill said, sounding distinctly uneasy.

“Perhaps they died of fright,” Drax guessed. He was bored already and twitchy. “They appear to be a weak species.”

“They’re actually not,” Gamora told him. “They control a large portion of trade and commerce in this part of the galaxy.”

Drax dismissed her with a wave of his curved knife. “Merchants and shopkeepers,” he pronounced. “They are not warriors.”

“This is it!” Quill hissed, pointing his armpiece at a closed bulkhead. “We got a live one behind here.”

Gamora scanned the bulkhead quickly. “It’s locked,” she announced.

“Can you  _ un _ lock it?” Quill asked impatiently.

Gamora gave him a warning look. His irreverence amused her most times, and she tolerated it the remaining times, but there were instances when he pushed a bit too far. Thankfully he was learning to recognize the signs and pull back.

The lock required a biometric key, but there were ways around that, and Gamora knew a few. It took several minutes, during which time Drax asked twice how much longer it would take. He was halfway through asking a third time when the door finally slid open.

“Oh, holy Jesus,” yelped the room’s single occupant, scrambling back against the far wall.

Gamora tilted her head as she examined the Terran. Her experience with humans had strictly limited to Quill, so she was slightly surprised at how different this one was. She knew that human gender was binary, so she made the assumption that this human, like Quill, was male. Unlike Quill, though, his skin was dark brown, his hair black and so thick and curly it looked like wool. He wore plain, somber-colored clothing and remarkably impractical shoes.

“We do not intend to hurt you,” Gamora assured him. “We are here to help you.”

The human lowered the hand that had briefly covered his face. His eyes were a much lighter brown than his skin, like the wood of a  _ shamshosh _ tree when you peeled back the bark. He stared at Gamora, frightened and confused.

“I--I don’t understand what you’re saying,” he said hesitantly.

Gamora grimaced and backed out of the room to where Quill and Drax were covering her back. “He doesn’t have a language chip,” she said softly.

“Does he speak English?” Quill asked.

Gamora gave him another Look. He offered her a sheepish smile in apology. “I’ll talk to him,” he offered, and stepped past her.

The human’s eyes widened when he saw Quill. “Holy shit, you’re human!” he exclaimed, scrambling to his feet. He was not tall. Not even remotely. “How--what--are you---?”

“Slow down there, sport,” Quill said, holstering his blaster. “What’s your name? How’d you get here?”

“Darius Miller,” the humans said. He blinked a few times and then let out a high-pitched giggle. “I was abducted,” he added, momentarily regaining his composure. He giggled again, sounding almost manic. “I was abducted by aliens. How fucked up is that?”

“I know the feeling,” Quill replied dryly. “The Fere’aei kidnapped you? From earth?”

“Uh, yeah,” Darius Miller said. “What happened? Where is everyone? How did you get on board?”

Quill glanced backward at Gamora, who shrugged back. “Well,” Quill said uneasily. He rubbed the back of his neck. “As far as we can tell, everyone’s dead.”

Darius Miller’s face turned pale and grayish. “Oh, god,” he whispered. “Lady Sigyn? She’s dead, too? Oh my god, the ambassador’s going to  _ kill _ me.”

“Who’s Lady Sigyn? Which ambassador?” Gamora demanded. Darius Miller shot her another terrified look, and Quill sighed impatiently before repeating her questions.

“Lady Sigyn,” Darius Miller said again. “The  _ norn _ ,” he added. “And her husband, Loki Odinson. Prince of Asgard and ambassador to earth.”

“Asgard?” Quill echoed, turning again to look at Gamora.

She’d heard of Asgard. Her adoptive father had spoken of Asgard many times. They guarded something that he wanted, but could not take. Asgard had made contact with Earth? That was a major change in galactic politics.

“What is a norn?” Drax demanded from the doorway. “What sort of creature is that?”

“I’ve heard of them before,” Gamora said quickly. “I thought they were just legends, made up stories.”

Quill glanced at his armpiece. “Well, she’s gonna be a dead legend if we don’t get a move on.”

“Wait,” Darius Miller said. “She’s  _ alive _ ?”

“Maybe,” Quill said. He gestured with his free hand. “This thing is only picking up another human life form, not...uh...whatever a norn is.”

“Where?” Darius Miller demanded, squaring his shoulders. A thread of bravery straightened his spine. “Show me, please.”

“Looks like she’s on the bridge,” Quill announced. “Gamora, you want point, or what?”

“I’ll follow you,” Gamora replied coolly. She never took point. She didn’t even know why Quill still asked that. “Tell the human to stay behind me.”

“Follow her,” Quill told Darius Miller, pointing to Gamora. “Don’t get in her way.”

“Okay,” the human agreed instantly, nodding. He scrambled out of the room (a cell, Gamora realized) and into the passage. He froze at the sight of the corpses. “How did they die?” he asked, looking pale again.

“We don’t know yet,” Gamora replied, despite knowing the human wouldn’t understand her. When Quill started towards the bridge, though, he fell into step behind her.

They encountered more corpses as they went. It appeared as if the entire crew had simply dropped dead, all at once. When Gamora stopped to scan one of the bodies, she discovered that the time of death was less than two local day-cycles ago. And that this particular corpse had died of asphyxiation.

Gamora got to her feet and looked around. An entire crew dead in the same instant, by asphyxiation. She’d seen this happen before. “Someone vented the atmosphere,” she announced. “That’s how the crew died. The human survived because he was in a sealed cell. There were no vents in that room.”

Quill paused and turned back toward her. “What’re you thinking? Escape attempt?”

“Well, it was partially effective,” Gamora pointed out.

“That is a coward’s plan,” Drax declared. “They should have fought their way out, not stolen the air. A warrior faces their enemy when they slaughter them.”

“This human doesn’t look much like a warrior,” Gamora said dryly.

“No,” Drax agreed. “It is scrawny. And short.”

The bridge was littered with the most bodies. Gamora stepped through the airlock after Drax and scanned the area. She caught a flash of white in a clump of corpses by a console. She immediately started over that direction. Fere’aei didn’t wear white.

She had to pull a couple of bodies out of the way to find the human. Or norn. Or whatever she was. Gamora easily lifted her out of the pile and carried her to a clear area to set her down again.

“Lady Sigyn!” Darius Miller exclaimed, and rushed over to the woman’s side.

Gamora pulled out her scanner again. This woman did not appear to be anything other than a female human. She had long, disheveled, dark brown hair, pale skin, even paler than Quill, who rarely spent time on-world. She wore a simple white gown that was smudged and stained, and over that a purple jacket-like garment. A ribbon was tangled in her hair. When Gamora freed it, she saw that a crescent-shaped charm was strung on it like a necklace.

“I dunno,” Quill said over Gamora’s shoulder. “She looks human to me. She alive?”

“She is uninjured, as far as I can tell,” Gamora replied. “But her vital signs are all incredibly low. Are humans capable of hibernation?”

“No,” Quill replied. “But--”

“What is she saying?” Darius demanded. “Is she alive?”

“Yeah, but it looks like she’s in a coma,” Quill told him shortly.

“Coma?” Darius Miller repeated. “Will she wake up? Can you help her?”

“We have medical facilities on our ship,” Gamora replied. “But I can’t make any promises.”

“We’ll try,” Quill translated tersely. “Gamora, why don’t you take our new friends back to the ship? Drax and I’ll see if we can get rid of the bodies before we tow this thing out of here.”

“What do you plan on doing with the bodies?” Gamora asked, putting her scanner back on her belt and preparing to lift the woman’s slight frame in her arm.

“Well, I  _ was _ just gonna toss them out the airlock, but I just got a message ping from the planet,” Quill said sourly. “They want to see our scavenger’s license. I guess we’ll have to turn the bodies over to the Fere’aei colony down below.”

“At least our license is current,” Gamora said pointedly. “Tell the human to follow me.”

“Go with her,” Quill ordered. “She’ll take you back to our ship and try to help your friend.”

“Oh, okay,” Darius Miller said hesitantly. “Uh, what--what are you going to do with us?”

“Nothing, for right now,” Quill told him. “Just go with her. She’ll get you something to eat, too.”

The human followed behind Gamora like a lost  _ chitrauk _ cub. He was, thankfully, silent, aware that even if Gamora could understand him, he could not understand _ her _ . Rocket waited for them at the docking port.

“So they really were humans, huh?” he asked as soon as the airlock opened. “This one’s kinda short, isn’t he? Is the other one alive?”

“What the  _ fuck?! _ ” Darius Miller spat from behind Gamora. “Why is--  _ How-- _ ”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Rocket said, rolling his eyes. “I know, it’s a talking racoon. Whatever. Get on board.”

“He doesn’t have a language chip,” Gamora explained, pushing past Rocket into the ship. “You may wish to see about rectifying that.”

“All right, keep your shirt on,” Rocket replied. “I think we still got one I can configure for his brain. It  _ is  _ a ‘he’, right?”

“I believe so,” Gamora answered, heading towards the medchair. Mantis beat her there, already unfolding the chair from the bulkhead. Despite being relatively sheltered for most of her life, Mantis was quite skilled at healing.

“She is very weak,” Mantis observed when Gamora put the unconscious human in the chair. 

“She doesn’t seem to be injured,” Gamora replied, transferring her scanner readings to the chair. Various arms sprouted from the chair’s base and the bulkhead. They would take further readings, place a fluid line, and clamp a breathing mask over the patient’s face.

“Is she going to live?” Darius Miller asked from behind Gamora. She glanced at him over her shoulder, and then nodded shortly. Better for him to have hope than not.

Rocket appeared from around a bulkhead, an implant injector in one hand. Without attracting Darius Miller’s attention, he scaled the wall behind the human, lined up the injector with his skull, just behind the ear, and pulled the trigger.

There was a loud click, and Darius Miller flinched, almost falling to the ground. “Shit! Fuck!” he exclaimed, spinning around and clapping his hand to the new implant. “What the fuck was that?” He caught sight of the injector in Rocket’s hand. “What did you do to me?” he demanded, and then passed out.

No one attempted to catch him on the way down to the deck.

“That’ll shut him up for a little while,” Rocket said with a leer, and dropped to the deck. “What about the other one? She need one, too?”

“I don’t think it would be a good idea to inject her now, in this state,” Mantis observed. “She may not handle the strain well.”

Rocket waved the injector. “Alright. Well, let me know. I’ll be in the cockpit.”

“I cannot find any reason that she should not be awake,” Mantis announced a moment later. “She is not injured and all her organs are in working order. She has some minor petechiae in her eyes, though.”

“So she was deprived of oxygen, too. How did she survive, though?” Gamora asked. “Terrans can’t hold their breath any longer than Fere’aei.”

“Perhaps I can ask her,” Mantis suggested.

“How?” Gamora demanded. “You’re an empath, not a telepath.”

“I can make people sleep,” Mantis said quietly. “I can make them wake up also.”

Gamora nodded. “If you think it’s safe to wake her.”

Mantis closed her eyes and reached out with one hand, pressing her fingertips to the bare skin just below the woman’s neck. Mantis’ antennae glowed and straightened as she worked, a tiny crease dividing her thin eyebrows.

Gamora took a step back to give the other woman room to work. Most of Mantis’ abilities were dependent on touch, but the more time she spent with someone, the more sensitive she was to their mood. And Gamora generally had a negative effect on Mantis’ mood.

The human woman gasped slightly and convulsed. Her eyes flew open, blue and blood-shot. She scrabbled at the mask over her face, trying to pull it away. Gamora caught her wrists and held them.

“Don’t,” she said firmly. “You need the oxygen.”

The human blinked a few times and stared up at Gamora, confused and frightened. “Where am I?” she asked, her voice muffled and hoarse.

“You are safe,” Gamora replied, though she didn’t have much hope the woman could understand her. “We have rescued you from the Fere’aei transport vessel. Your friend, Darius Miller is also alive and safe.”

The woman blinked a few more times. “Who--who are you?” she asked, sounding uncertain.

Gamora frowned. “Can you understand me?” she asked, trying to gentle her voice. The woman nodded. “I am Gamora. This is Mantis. You are on our ship, the  _ Milano II _ . You are safe.”

The human turned her head to look at Mantis, then back at Gamora. “One more question,” she said. “Who am I?”


	6. Hold Me Tight Or Don't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whaaaaaaaaaat? An update? What is this madness?????????
> 
> In case anyone was confused, I did some major restructuring of The Ragnarok Cycle (formerly The Yggdrasil Chronicles) to make it more streamlined and easier to print when I have the time / motivation / money.

Loki paced across the width of the bridge,  _ again. _ Tall did not look pleased at his restlessness. The Vyrkyriyr watched his progress with xer bulging, faceted eyes, mouthpieces twitching in irritation. Loki could not bring himself to care. It had been nearly four days since Darcy and Darius had disappeared, along with the Fere’aei delegation. Loki had no doubt as to what had occurred.

When he caught The One Born Under the Last Winter Moon, he was going to tear her limb from limb.

“Loki, if you don’t stop pacing, you are going to make me spaceship-sick,” Stark complained.

“That… That’s not actually a thing, is it?” Bruce asked uneasily. He had initially refused to accompany them, until Loki explained that the Vyxkyryn ship was more than sturdy enough to contain a Hulk outburst, due to the Vyrkyriyr’s prodigious strength.

“No, it is not,” Sif, replied shortly.

Loki paused in mid-step to quickly assess the allies he had brought with him. Rogers had insisted on coming, and Loki knew there was no point in trying to stop him. And where Rogers went, Barnes went also. Stark and Banner were chosen for their scientific insight. Sif, of course, accompanied Loki wherever he went. She had begged Loki not to send her back to Asgard for her failure to keep Darcy safe, and to instead allow her to win her honor back in combat. Loki didn’t give a damn about her honor; he wanted her sword beside him if it came to battle.

Barnes caught Loki’s armas he passed by. “Worry does not help,” he said in the brusque accent that told Loki he was speaking Russian. “Keep your mind clear. Bide your time.”

Loki deliberately switched languages to match the super-soldier. “I am not worried. I am angry.”

Barnes’ gray eyes didn’t waver. “Anger is no good, either.”

“Prince of Asgard,” Tall called. “Asgard calls us.”

Loki spun on his heel and prowled to join the insectoid alien. “Proceed,” he ordered briskly, matching the terse communication style of the Vyrkyriyr.

A section of the viewport became opaque and then pixelated, the image finally resolving into Thor’s face. “Brother!” the king of Asgard boomed. “I have only just heard the news. Have you rescued her yet?”

Loki ground his teeth together. “No. We are still en route to Akass’i. They had twelve hours head start.”

“Akass’i?” Thor frowned and stroked his golden beard. “I will send Hogan with a detachment of Einherjar to meet you. I would accompany them, but Father is ill, and I dare not leave his side.”

For a moment it felt like the ship began to pitch and yaw under his feet. “How ill?” Loki demanded.

“Gravely, I fear,” Thor replied grimly. “Once Lady Sigyn is safe, I bid you return to Asgard to keep vigil with our mother.”

“I will,” Loki said softly.

“Good hunting, Loki,” Thor told him, and the call ended.

Sif stepped up to Loki’s side, placing a hand on his shoulder. “My prince, you have my condolences,” she said quietly. “I will pray for his recovery.”

“He won’t,” Loki said, a deep heaviness gathering in the bottom of his stomach.

“What do you mean?”

“He will not recover,” Loki told her. “It is his time.”

“You are sure?” Sif asked with a frown.

“My mother is a witch,” Loki reminded her. “I’ve learned a few tricks.” He passed his hand over his face. “But that must wait. Lady Sigyn needs our aid.”

“Of course,” Sif said, dropping her hand. “We  _ will _ rescue her, my Prince.”

Loki narrowed his green eyes, staring out into space as if he could pierce the distance to wherever the Fere’aei were holding Darcy. She was  _ not _ dead, despite their connection being severed. He knew she was alive.

The alternative did not bear thinking about.

xXx

The woman sat on the edge of the medical chair, hands folded in her lap. The other human hovered nervously close by, waiting for her to speak. Gamora leaned against the bulkhead, arms crossed.

They’d left Akass’i three hours ago, towing the passenger transport. Rocket had lined up a buyer at a spaceport two hyper jumps away; the first hyperspace point was almost six hours from Akass’i.

The woman--Sigyn--looked so young. Gamora had a vague idea of human lifespans, but surely she couldn’t be more than a girl. Mantis had brushed out her long, dark brown hair and braided it into a single plait down her back. There was no clothing on board that would fit her, so she wore a set of Quill’s sleep pants and shirt, which were ridiculously baggy on her.

“So my husband is an alien?” she asked Darius Miller, not looking up at the human.

“Technically, you are too,” Darius Miller replied. “You’re from a planet called Nornheim.”

“I don’t feel like an alien,” Sigyn said, reaching up to touch her face. “I look just like you. I mean…  _ mostly, _ anyway.” 

Miller smiled tightly. “I don’t think anyone  _ feels _ like an alien.”

Mantis appeared beside Gamora, who stifled the urge to curse. The younger woman could sneak up on anyone, even one of the most dangerous assassins in the galaxy.

“Did you finish the tests?” Gamora asked.

“Yes,” Mantis replied, her black eyes wide and unblinking. “The retrograde amnesia is most likely caused by prolonged oxygen deprivation. She is lucky the brain damage is not worse.”

“Will she recover her memories?”

“Possibly. Possibly not. It is hard to tell.”

Gamora sighed deeply, drumming her fingers against her bicep. “Darius Miller said she was the wife of the Asgardian ambassador to Earth. We can take them there.”

Mantis’ antennae lifted in surprise. “To Earth? But that is so far away!”

“No, to Asgard,” Gamora replied. “That should take us a week, maybe a little more. And I’m sure they will be very happy to have her back, and will compensate us for our time.”

“Yes, of course,” Mantis said sadly, her antennae drooping again. She was new to the concept of money and being reliant on it. Her life with Ego had not been pleasant, but she had always been provided for.

Gamora pushed away from the bulkhead. “I’ll tell the others we’ll be heading to Asgard once we make the sale. Keep an eye on our guests.”

She headed toward the cockpit, a multitude of scenarios running through her head. Asgard would not be friendly, or safe, but having the ambassador’s wife should offer them protection. And Asgard was absurdly wealthy. They would gladly pay whatever price the Guardians asked for.

Working for sustenance was a relatively new concept for Gamorra, as well. Thanos had always provided his children with food, shelter, and weapons. To be forced to scrounge for salvage or hire herself out to the highest bidder was demeaning for someone who had once been royalty in all but name.

Her life as a child of Thanos had not been easy, either. It had been a long, constant nightmare, an eternal struggle to survive with danger closing in from all sides. But she had never been hungry, never needed clothing or shelter, and she had never been… purposeless.

Now she drifted around the galaxy from one job to the next, barely scraping together enough money to keep the  _ Milano II _ fueled. Her former self would have thought it a pathetic existence.

Now… she reveled in it.

xXx

Darius Miller was having a Bad Day. Actually, he was having a Bad Week. First, he’d been kidnapped by aliens. Then he’d been transported halfway across the galaxy and rescued by  _ more _ aliens. And the worst part is that he hadn’t taken his T shots in who knew how many days. He’d made a lot of progress over the last year or so, and he didn’t want to lose any ground.

And to top it all off, his boss had amnesia.

Awesome.

He hovered close to Sigyn, unwilling to leave her alone, even to explore the spaceship. A spaceship! He was on an honest-to-God  _ spaceship _ . How many humans outside of NASA could say that? Like any kid, he’d dreamed of being an astronaut. He never thought he’d  _ actually _ make it to space.

“Is this my wedding ring?” Lady Sigyn asked abruptly, staring down at the gold ring on her left hand.

“I think so, yes,” Darius replied with a frown. He knew that Lady Sigyn never took it off, but she’d never explicitly stated it was a wedding ring.

“It looks wrong. Why does it have a stone?” She brought it close to her face and peered at it some more. “It’s not supposed to have a stone.”

“I--I don’t know,” Darius stammered. “I’m not familiar with Nornheim or Asgard wedding traditions.”

She scowled and dropped her hand. “Bet my husband is a goy,” she muttered.

Darius blinked. He’d grown up in New York and lived there all his life. He knew hundreds of Yiddish words, and he definitely knew  _ that _ one. 

But why did Lady Sigyn know it?

She slid off the medichair and stretched, bending her knees a few times to test her balance and strength. “So. What’s the rest of the ship look like?”

Darius trailed after her like a lost puppy as she poked into the nooks and crannies, never touching anything, just exploring the ship. Every once in a while on one of the aliens would appear, make sure they  _ weren’t _ touching anything, and disappear again.

The ship wasn’t nearly as large as the Fere’aei transport, and seemed crowded with the crew’s personal belongings. It was also old and, while obviously lovingly cared for, clearly patched together from parts of other ships.

At one point Darius turned around and screamed, finding himself nose-to-nose with the racoon-looking alien. The small creature bared his teeth, but if it was supposed to be a smile, Darius wasn’t sure.

“Really can hit those high notes, can’t ya?” the racoon asked. “Mantis said the girl had weird suppressor cuffs on. Told me to take a look at them.”

Lady Sigyn turned around and walked over to them, pushing up the sleeves of her borrowed shirt. “These?” she asked, holding out her arms. “You mean they aren’t normal?”

The racoon--Rocket, Darius belatedly remembered--dropped from the handholds on the wall and scurried over to Lady Sigyn. He grabbed her hand and pulled it down, forcing her to kneel in front of him as he turned her wrists over.

“No. Definitely not normal. Pretty advanced tech. Doesn’t look Fere’aei. Looks more Sovereign.  _ That’s _ not good news.”

“What do they do?” Lady Sigyn asked.

“Suppressors, like I said. Sigma brain waves. So like if you’re psychic or something, it blocks your powers. Apparently Mantis has some experience with shit like this. Said that raging prick Ego used to put ‘em on her when she was a kid.”

“I--I didn’t understand any of that,” Sigyn admitted sadly.

“Doesn’t matter. Point is, I can’t get these off. You need a key. Try to bypass the key: boom. No hands. Pretty sure you wanna keep your hands, right?”

Lady Sigyn snattched her wrists out of Rocket’s grasp, crossing them over her chest. “Yes, I would. Very much, please.”

“No skin off my nose. I’ll take a snoop around Port Primus when we get there. Maybe someone’s got a key or something I can turn into one.” He turned with a flash of his bushy tail and scuttled off. On his back he wore a small backpack with what appeared to be a tiny humanoid form made out of wood inside it. The small figure waved a twiggy hand at them before Rocket disappeared around a bulkhead.

Lady Sigyn rubbed at the skin under the cuffs fretfully. “I really hope they can get these things off,” she said.

“Me, too,” Darius said feelingly.

xXx

Gamora, Quill, and Mantis all wanted the passengers to stay on the ship when they reached Port Primus. Rocket insisted that the girl accompany him in his search for a key. Gamora finally relented under the condition that the male human stay behind. Darius was happy to oblige, muttering something about how his health insurance didn’t cover off-world incidents.

Whatever  _ that _ meant.

Groot rode in his carrier on Rocket’s back as he made his way through the port to the commercial district. He had to stop every few seconds and urge the girl along. She wanted to see everything, her head swiveling back and forth, eyes wide and mouth open.

“Let’s go, let’s go,” Rocket snapped, tugging on her sleeve. “We don’t got all day and I want to check to see if they have a vacuum-equipped plasma welder or a navcom AI processor.”

“Sorry,” the girl said contritely. “It’s all just… so  _ much _ . I mean,  _ look _ at all these people! Everyone looks so different!”

“Yeah, ‘cuz they’re aliens,” Rocket growled.

“I am Groot,” Groot said.

“Of  _ course _ you’re hungry already,” Rocket muttered. “You  _ just _ had breakfast, you bottomless pit.”

“Babies are  _ always _ hungry at that age,” the girl said, distracted by the sight of a low-flying pleasure cruiser visible through the transparent dome over the commercial district.

“How would  _ you _ know?” Rocket demanded, fishing the baby Flora Colossus out of the carrier.

“Mine is still nursing,” the girl replied, standing on her tiptoes to try to see over the crowd.

Rocket froze. “You have a baby?” he asked slowly.

The girl looked down at him and blinked, her expression confused. “I--I think so? I thought… for a second I thought I remembered…” 

“Whatever,” Rocket cut her off. “Tell Mantis about it later. She actually cares about that crap.”

The girl was quiet and subdued for the rest of the walk until Rocket found a store that looked promising. He handed off Groot to her with a couple of credit chits and told her to get him something to eat.

“Does he eat solid food?” the girl asked, holding the baby tree in the crook of her arm.

“He’ll eat literally anything. And I mean that. There’s a reason the  _ Milano _ ain’t got rust roaches.”

With the girl and Groot out from underfoot, Rocket was able to browse without distraction. The storekeeper kept a close eye on him. They always did. Quill said it was because he had a “shifty face.” Rocket liked to think of it as “clever.”

Still, a few items found their way into his pockets despite the watchful eye of the shopkeeper. He did not find anything similar to a key that he could use for the girl’s cuffs, so he tipped his nonexistent hat to the shopkeeper and went in search of the girl.

He found her only a few shops over, sitting on a bench in front of a food stand. She had Groot in her lap and was hand-feeding him pieces of deep-fried Xandarian shellfish, occasionally stealing a bite as she went.

“Good, at least he’s getting protein,” Rocket said as he climbed up onto the bench beside her. “Seems like the last week all he wants to eat are sweets.”

“Well, it was the one that smelled the best,” the girl replied. “Did you find a key?”

“No,” Rocket replied, reaching into his vest and pulling out the three small capacitor chips he’d swiped. “Here. Hold these.”

She took them without question, slipping them into her pocket. Groot devoured the last piece of shellfish. “I am Groot!” he exclaimed.

“That’s it. That’s all we have,” the girl said in a sappy voice. “You ate it all up.”

“I am Groot!” Groot demanded.

“No, Groot. Sweets aren’t good for little babies like you,” the girl cooed.

“You can understand him?” Rocket asked, his eyes wide.

She frowned. “Can’t everyone?”

“No, everyone  _ can’t _ ,” Rocket snapped. “And another thing, you can understand  _ me _ without a translator chip, and Gamora, and Drax, and Mantis. How is that  _ possible?” _

She stared at him with a confused expression. “But… everyone is speaking the same language….”

Rocket scratched behind his ear. “Hang on a second.” He tapped his wrist com to deactivate his translator chip. “Okay. When I say ‘spaceship’ what do you hear?”

The girl continued to frown, and then said, “ _ Stjarneik _ .”

“Well, that sounds like Asgardian, which makes sense,” Rocket muttered, turning his chip back on. “Asgardians have that thing where they understand all languages. What’s it called? Alltalk?”

“Allspeak,” the girl said, and looked surprised she knew it.

“I guess your memories  _ are _ starting to come back,” Rocket said, and picked up Groot. He slung him into the carrier. “Let’s go. I wanna beat the others back to the ship so I can put clingbur pods in Quill’s sock drawer again.”

“There!” yelled a voice above the low murmur of the shopping crowd. “That’s the creature!”

“Let’s go!” Rocket snarled, grabbing the girls sleeve. He tried to pull them along, but an enforcement robot lunged out of the crowd and caught hold of her other arm. It yanked her back roughly, causing her to stumble. The capacitor chips fell out of her pocket to the artificial turf underfoot.

“Thief!” yelled the shopkeeper, emerging from the press of bodies. “She stole those from my shop!”

“You are under arrest for theft,” the enforcement robot droned.

“But… those aren’t mine…” the girl said plaintively, looking down at Rocket.

“ _ Shit, _ ” Rocket muttered, holding Groot tight. He melted into the crowd, heading back toward the docks. There was nothing he could do for the girl now. He’d get Gamora and Quill and the others and they would go down to the brig to bail the kid out. Sure, they’d yell at him, but it wasn’t like this wasn’t trouble he’d caused before.

They’d fix everything. He was sure of it.


	7. Young and Menace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my sweets! Thank you for your patience while I struggle through this mess. I lost my drive for this story some time ago and even though I know what is supposed to happen, it's hard to get the words down.
> 
> Please, if you haven't already, consider purchasing a copy of A Profound Silence. I am working on getting This Is Gospel ready for printing as well. I do need a cover designer. I am not an artist, so if you are, hit me up and we'll talk. I can't pay much, but I can offer a free copy of the book you are designing for. I would like to feature a different artist for each story, but that's just a fantasy of mine.
> 
> Thanks as always for reading! Hit me up on Insta @sinead_smith_3 if you wanna chat.

Akass’i was a graveyard. The debris field was so thick in places it blotted out the sun. Loki stood on the landing field, staring up at the wreckage of destroyed battleships orbiting the planet. The Vyrkyriyr were still scanning the debris field for survivors while licensed scavengers broke down the burnt-out husks for salvage and recycle. It could be days until they searched through everything.

Days Darcy may not have.

All the escape pods from the Fere’aei warships had been accounted for, the occupants placed under arrest pending trial. The Fere’aei colony had been placed under military guard by the Vyrkyriyr as they waited for word from their home planet. The air was tense with the threat of war, and Loki did not wish to tip the balance, but he knew he would do anything,  _ anything _ , to find Darcy.

Sif stood at parade rest nearby, her hand on the hilt of her sword. She had hardly left his side since Darcy’s capture, determined to not let him out of her sight. Loki appreciated the gesture and tried not to find her presence too irritating.

An Einherjar strode over the landing field toward them. True to his word, Thor had sent a contingent of Asgard’s army to assist them, and Loki had placed them at the Vyrkyriyr’s convenience.

“Your Highness!” the Einherjar called. “Your presence is requested by the Vyrkyriyr.”

“Have they found her?” Loki demanded.

“I am not certain,” the Einherjar replied hesitantly. “They only said they wished to speak with you.”

“Very well,” Loki said sharply, and turned to head toward the government building. It was not a short walk, but all of the land skimmers were being used to transport Vyrkyriyr soldiers and Einherjar around the colonies. They could not spare even one for Loki’s use.

Rogers was waiting for him when he arrived. Loki had been unable to take the long, tedious wait and had appointed Rogers commander of the EInherjar before leaving to walk to the landing docks. 

“Any news?” Loki asked. Rogers fell into step beside him, his expression grave.

“It’s not good,” Rogers warned him. “They finished their sweep through the debris field.”

“And?” Loki bit out.

“Nothing. Darcy wasn’t there at all.”

“So she may have survived?” Loki asked, a spark of hope igniting in his chest.

Rogers hesitated. “There was something else. We found a report of a salvage crew taking a Fere’aei transport ship before we arrived. The ship was apparently in perfect condition, but they reported no survivors. According to the report, it was the ship that The One Born Under The Last Winter Moon was on.”

Loki came to a dead halt, fists clenched. Rogers started to reach out to him, stopped himself, and dropped his hand. “Loki,” he said softly. “I’m sorry.”

“Were the bodies of the crew recovered?”

Rogers blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“Did the salvagers turn over the bodies of the crew,” Loki asked again.

“I--I don’t know,” Rogers admitted. “At that point, I sent someone to get you.”

“I want to see the full report,” Loki said flatly, resuming his walk to the command center.

“Yeah, I’ve got it pulled up at my station,” Rogers said quickly. “Are--are you okay?”

Loki eyed Rogers. “Why would I not be?”

Rogers took a deep breath. “They said there were no survivors.”

“Captain, I will not be convinced of Darcy’s death until I see her body, and even then I may not believe it,” Loki replied briskly. “She has survived things that would have killed a god, and she is the host of Ragnarok. She is not easily harmed.”

“You’re right,” Steve said with a firm nod, but he sounded as if he was trying to convince himself. “No need to give up hope yet.”

“No,” Loki agreed. “Not yet.”

The command center was noisy with the clicks of mandibles and the scrape of chitin. Vyrkyriyr bustled back and forth between stations, calling out data and commands. Rogers showed Loki to the station he’d been assigned and poked at the controls for a minute.

“These aren’t exactly made for human hands,” he complained. “I think this is the report. I had to have Faldi here read it to me, since they couldn’t translate it.”

Loki glanced back at the Einherjar, who stood a bit straighter under the scrutiny. He turned back to the readout and scanned the report. “All the corpses recovered were Fere’aei,” he said out loud after a minute.

“What?” Rogers asked with a frown.

“All the corpses recovered from the ship were Fere’aei. There was no sign of either Darcy or Darius.”

“So that means that they were taken off the ship before the battle,” Steve said, rubbing his chin with his thumb.

“Or they were taken off the ship  _ after _ the battle,” Loki added. “We need to know the name of that salvage ship.”

xXx

They could not, in fact, fix  _ everything _ .

Still smarting from the multiple lectures, Rocket sulked while he watched Gamora try to bully the shopkeeper into accepting a bribe to drop the charges.

“No, no,” the shopkeeper kept saying. “I am an honest man. Thieves must pay for their crimes!”

So then Gamora tried to pay for the capacitor chips outright, but the shopkeeper still refused, insisting the girl had to serve her sentence.

“Sentence?” Quill echoed. “Doesn’t there have to be a trial first?”

“Trial? What trial?” the shopkeeper scoffed. “She was caught with the stolen goods on her! The punishment for theft on Port Primus is five solar years in prison.”

“Five  _ years _ ?” Quill sputtered. “For a handful of capacitor chips?”

“Theft is theft,” the shopkeeper insisted. “She must pay.”

“I am this close to drop kicking you straight into vacuum,” Quill hissed at Rocket as they headed back to the  _ Milano II _ .

“How was I supposed to know the sentence was five years?” Rocket protested.

“You shouldn’t have taken the chips in the first place,” Gamora snapped. “Now what do you think Asgard will do to you once they find out you got the wife of one of their princes arrested for petty theft?”

Rocket flattened his ears. “You’re not gonna  _ tell _ them, are you?”

“I’m tempted,” Gamora growled. “Sorely tempted. Let’s go to the Port Authority and see if we can convince them to release her.”

“And if they won’t?” Quill asked.

“Then we’ll contact Asgard,” Gamora said, giving Rocket a dark look.

The Primus Port Authority consisted completely of enforcer robots with sub-par programming, and they wouldn’t even allow Gamora back to see the kid. They refused to offer a fine instead of imprisonment. Gamora was very close to ripping the head off the commander before Quill pulled her away.

“We’ll contact Asgard,” Quill told her, trying to sound soothing. “They’ll get her out in no time.”

Gamora snatched her arm away from Quill’s grasp. “Don’t placate me,” she snapped. “And a message to Asgard will take three days to get there and another three to get a reply.”

“Well, we have the money from selling the transport and we need to resupply,” Quill pointed out. “That will take a few days. And Rocket’s been wanting to overhaul the fuel processor manifest.”

Rocket perked up. “Yeah. And update the nav-com. You know  _ that _ will take two days just by itself.”

Gamora pressed her lips together. “Very well. But  _ you’re _ telling the other human you got his mistress locked up in prison.”

Rocket bared his teeth. He didn’t like confrontation unless he was allowed to shoot at people, and apologizing was not in his vocabulary. At all. So this was a conversation that he would  _ not _ enjoy. But he would do as Gamora said and tell the human what had happened. Because he owed it to his crew. They may bicker and fight and sometimes even punch each other in the face, but in the end, they were family.

xXx

Darius was really, really not having a good day.

Not only was he stuck in the middle of  _ space _ with a bunch of  _ aliens _ , now his boss’ wife was locked up for a crime she didn’t commit, and her release was contingent on him being able to send a coherent message to Asgard to beg for help. And it would take  _ six days _ for them to hear anything back.

“Six days,” he repeated, unsure if he didn’t believe them or just didn’t like what he was hearing. “It’s going to take  _ six days _ for us to hear back?”

“We are too far away from Asgard for instant communications,” Gamora explained with obviously forced patience. “The more hyperspace jumps away you are, the more delayed the communication.”

“Hyperspace jumps,” Darius echoed. “What does that mean? Don’t you have a hyperspace engine or something?”

“Only the largest of warships and cruisers have hyperspace engines,” Gamora replied. “A ship this size would be ripped apart by an engine powerful enough to move through hyperspace. We have to use jump points, which are stationary points in space where you can enter or exit hyperspace lanes.”

Darius shook his head. “Okay. Okay. So, what do I have to do? Record a message asking them to come release Lady Sigyn?”

“Yes,” Gamora said with a sigh of relief.

“I think I can do that,” Darius said. He had never personally had a reason to contact Asgard before. He’d spent quite a bit of time with the Asgardian personnel at the embassy, and they were all nice enough, but they tended to treat him like they were indulging a precocious child or something, and it really irked him sometimes. 

At least the Ambassador treated him like a competent human being.

Darius had to squeeze in between the pilot and copilot chairs to record his message. He wasn’t sure what to say at first, and had to compose a script in his head. After several false starts, he managed to cobble together a recording that sounded semi-professional.

“Uh… Hello. This is Darius Miller. I’m Ambassador Loki Odinson’s personal assistant. I am on Port Primus with the crew of the  _ Milano II _ . Lady Sigyn has been falsely imprisoned for a theft she didn’t commit, and we can’t secure her release. Please send a representative to negotiate on her behalf. Thank you.”

“Now what?” he asked Gamora.

“Now we wait,” she replied grimly.

xXx

“Odinson.”

Loki looked up sharply to find Tall standing beside him. Loki shook his head. He’d been distracted and out-of-sorts since Darcy had been taken. The silver threads inside his mind and soul that connected them together were loose and plucked plaintively, searching for her through the emptiness. Half of himself was missing, and he would not be whole until he found her.

“Yes, Tall,” he said, straightening. “What is it?”

“We found the registration of the salvage ship you were looking for,” Tall said, holding out the plastic-like printout. Loki took it eagerly.

“The  _ Milano II _ ,” he read out loud. “Did they list their destination?”

“Port Primus,” xe replied tersely. “In sector 7-8 Alpha.”

Loki frowned. “I’ve never heard of that port before.”

Tall clicked xer mandibles, the Vyrkyriyr version of a shrug. “It is new. Only twenty local solar years old. Run by the rich son of a weapons manufacturer from Xandar.”

“My friend, I must beg the use of a ship from you,” Loki said, folding the printout.

Tall waved xer hand dismissively. “I will have one prepared. My hive will assist you however we can.”

“You have my eternal gratitude,” Loki said with a low bow.

“And you have ours,” Tall replied.

xXx

She was very confused.

After she’d been arrested and “processed,” she’d been taken immediately to the penthouse suite of a residential spire in the center of the port and left alone in a locked room. A very comfortable room with an excellent view of the star field, but it was still essentially a cell.

No one had listened to her when she’d protested that she had not taken the chips, that she had never even entered the store. She had not mentioned that it had been Rocket who gave her the chips. Rocket and the others had saved her life. She owed them at least her silence.

Though she was rather hurt that Rocket would let her take the fall for him.

She wandered around the room aimlessly, touching various objects to explore the textures. The cushions on the sofas were purely ornamental despite their inviting appearance. The plants in the corners of the room were real, though she had no idea how they grew without sunlight. The walls were cold and perfectly smooth, almost frictionless.

She had not been given any food or drink, and it had been hours since her few bites of fried food she’d shared with baby Groot. Her stomach cramped and rumbled, and her mouth was dry and tacky. She considered trying to yell through the door, but she imagined that would only make her throat sore.

The door clicked, and then slid open, and a man stepped through. He was slightly taller than her, but not by much, with black hair and bright pink skin. His eyes were purple and he wore flamboyantly colorful clothing.

“Well,  _ hello _ there,” he said with an undisguised leer. “They didn’t mention you were such a vision of beauty.”

“Um… hi?” she said hesitantly. “Who-- who are you?”

“I am Eran Rasze,” the man said. “The Administrator of Port Primus. But the more important question is; who are  _ you _ ?”

“Sigyn,” she replied. “My name is Sigyn.” Saying it out loud felt… weird. The name felt familiar, but distant, like a childhood nickname that had lingered into adulthood. It felt like it belonged to her, but it wasn’t  _ her _ .

“Sigyn and what else?” Eran Rasze asked as he circled her, his gaze wandering up and down her body. “Where are you from? Who are your people? Who  _ are _ you?”

She technically knew the answers to his questions, but something told her that it would be best to keep her mouth shut. “I-- I don’t know,” she said. “I, uh, I have retrograde amnesia.”

“Amnesia?” Eran Rasze echoed. He clicked his tongue. “Tell me a better story, pretty thing.”

“It’s true,” she insisted. “I was deprived of oxygen and suffered brain damage. I don’t remember anything earlier than a couple days ago.”

“Then where did you get these?” he demanded, grabbing her hand and pushing back her sleeve, revealing the manacle locked around her wrist.

“I had them when I woke up,” she said. “I don’t know how to take them off.”

“Because you  _ can’t _ ,” Eran Rasze told her. “This is Sovereign tech. These won’t come off even if you die. I’d have to chop off your hands to get them.”

She snatched her hand away from him, clutching them to her chest. “What do you  _ want _ ?”

“I want to know how much you’re worth and who will pay for you,” Eran Rasze told her. “In the meantime, I want you to make yourself comfortable. I’ll send some clothes for you. Make yourself pretty. Well, pretti _ er _ . I’ll send someone to fetch you. Then we’ll have some fun.”

Her distress must have shown on her face because he laughed nastily. “Oh, don’t worry, beautiful. I have no intentions on your virtue. You’re worth more unspoiled. But that doesn’t mean I can’t play.” With that he swept out of the room, leaving her alone again.

  
She sank down onto one of the uncomfortable couches, dread filling her stomach. The green stone in the ring on her finger caught the light and she looked down, moving her hand to make the ring sparkle. She really,  _ really _ hoped someone out there was looking for her.


End file.
